The Chasm
by FirstYear
Summary: After a discovery in the Muggle world Hermione finds there may be much more to the runes then what was thought. She, Ron and Harry step through the veil to discover the secret, finding things are not as thought. Mystery/Action/Romance HG/RW, many others
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

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**The Chasm**

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**Prolouge**

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**The First**

She looked at the sky from where she sat on her heels at the creek's edge, seeing black acrid smoke curl over the ridge to the south. She held her breath and closing her eyes, listened. Listened until her lungs felt ready to explode. She sought the sound of a cricket, or a bird's soft call, the bleating of goats from the summer pastures, but heard only an ominous silence.

Snapping her eyes open with a sharp intake of breath, she jumped up. Her laundry spilled into the muddy imprints of her knees, forgotten and cast away. She began to run, chanting the name of Odin and His father, imploring them to intercede. Then, grasping an amulet that hung on a leather thong around her neck she brought it to her lips, kissing it, praying to His gods, praying to those who had walked here before time. Her heart raced faster than her bare feet, her mind, unable to understand the depth of what she knew had happened, was only able to keep the chanted prayers and tearfully spoken words in front of her.

Once she made it to the top of the ridge, she squatted down and searched the valley in front of her, hoping to see more than the fire that still raged through the thatched huts. She watched the strange men lay their torches to the pens, and heard the screaming of the spring lambs. Lowering to her stomach on the ground, she parted the tall grass and peered at the centre of the village, raising the amulet to her lips once more. There, in a small clearing, stood the only reminder of the God that had given them this quiet place. Seeing only death and with it the total destruction of all she knew, she closed her eyes and lowered her head, breathing deeply and finding her centre, knowing this was the end of times that the oracle had prophesized eons ago.

Peace flooded her being, wrapped her in a warm embrace, called to her soul, and gave her strength for what she knew she must do. Lifting her head, she coldly surveyed the site, her ragged breath now slow and even. She smiled, seeing the land littered with bodies, the victors looting the dead, knowing she would soon be safe and with her people and her gods. She stood, lifted both hands to the sky, called on the winds of the icy sea and of the ancestors that watched over the village. She beseeched them to bring a storm, not to quell the flames, but to capsize the ships and bring havoc to the harbour. She called on the old gods to rain down their wrath on those that would dare to do this to His chosen. Praying for him to abandon the strangers on this cold rocky island with winter setting in and the supplies laid to waste.

She closed her eyes and chanted, bringing calm to herself and the life that grew in her womb. A small smile touched her lips as she felt dark clouds gathering, felt the ground rumble, and heard the cries and shouts of the foreign men feeling their own terror.

"Witch!" They screamed and raised weapons and wooden shields, not knowing if they dared to move or if they dared to stay rooted to the ground.

She started toward them, intent on making it home, to lay her hand on God's image, to feel Him accept her, to know her as the last of her people. Magic radiated from her, opening a path before her, the winter wheat giving way to her feet, the thorns of prickly berry bushes letting go of their hold on her tunic. The sky opened, split by bolts of lighting, dry leaves caught in the wind, rose up, and intertwined in her hair. She felt the spirit of the village flow into her, giving her its strength and power. She smiled as the magic of her people filled her, buoyed her sprits and commanded her to continue.

She did not take her eyes off the towering monolith that was the heart of her tribe as she pushed through a blurry fog of smoke and the stench of human flesh put to the torch. Keeping her eyes to the front, despite the jeering calls and lurid insults, hurled from the men of the north, she continued, feeling her eyes sting from the smoke and her lungs threaten to close. She felt death's breath on her face and put a hand over her stomach, feeling the first quickening of life, determined that this child would live. The future of her people would survive in her.

A stone hit her shoulder, hard and sharp, piercing the skin, hot blood going unnoticed as she held magic in her fist and let it loose, showering her in the shimmering light of a golden orb, protecting her as she walked closer to the men with their bearded faces and strange dress. Her hair rose again in the rushing wind, swirling up as the dust from the dirt path rose with it, obliterating her from sight, leaving the invading army in fear and confusion.

Another rock, hurled from a warrior's sling struck her cheek, yet another, her stomach. An arrow ripped into her thigh. Still she reached for the reflection that was her god, her protector and her salvation. A flaming arrow lit the suddenly dark sky, slamming into her back, coming to rest between her shoulder blades, as another tore into her left side, tearing muscle and sinew as she fell forward. Her lips pressed against the blue stone that was her god, her arms holding Him, her lips whispering His name, as He pulled her into His welcoming embrace.

**Ten Years Ago**

**May 2, 1998**

Constance Mulciber stood at the fringe of the clearing in the forbidden forest, stepping back and disappearing into the shadows, trying to become as inconspicuous as possible. Things were becoming chaotic. As soon as the Potter kid had stepped into the clearing, she knew it was time to leave. It no longer mattered who won or which side wrested control of the world. If Potter was about to stand alone, in front of the Dark Lord, it meant that Snape could no longer protect him, and if he could no longer protect the boy, he was laying someplace on the battle field. She had to find him.

Dropping her mask, she pulled off her cloak as she ran. She made her way deeper into the shadows of the Forbidden Forest, only to circle back toward the castle, staying off the paths and away from the round gamekeepers hut, disguising her path and hoping to go unnoticed. She was soon another jean and tee clad concerned mother looking for her child on the grounds of Hogwarts, willing to fight to protect her own, blending in while at the same time going unnoticed. _Fools_, she thought, watching the students standing in groups, wands at the ready, acting as if they were going off to fight for some noble cause, not realizing that only carnage and death would follow.

She was cold. The night air cooled the sweat from the back of her neck as fast as it appeared; cooling her flesh and sending a chill down her spine, making her remember the night she had cut her hair. She had worn it long, flowing down her back, hair he had said he liked, hair she was proud of and wore like a badge of womanhood, feminine and soft. Then, in a rage at his caustic comments, she had hacked it short until it was a mere cap of dark brown fuzz with a few wispy bangs.

He had laughed at her, had the nerve to tip his head up and laugh uproariously, and told her she would still not pass for a wizard in battle, laughed and ran his hand across her neck sending a different type of shiver through her. She had slapped his hand away at that, and then had slapped his face, hard, leaving her hand print as red swollen evidence of her anger.

He had not said a word, not made a move to stop her, to reprimand her, to punish her for her actions. He had only given her a curt nod and walked away, his robes catching the wind and raising up behind him as if in the same rage as he.

Now she ran to find him, wanting to hear him laugh at her for foolishly thinking he was injured or that he would have let his guard down so completely that he would have put himself in a situation he could not get out.

"You are Professor Snape's friend? You know him I mean? That was you in Hogsmeade with him?"

She spun around at the voice and pointed her wand at the bushy haired girl that stood at her elbow. "Who are you?"

"Umm, Hermione Granger," the girl whispered, stepping back from the upheld wand, letting her own wand slip from her sleeve and into her palm.

"Granger." Constance echoed, chagrined at her own lack of recognition of the girl that stood in front of her. Lowering her arm, she only nodded.

Then, as she listened to the girl's story, mixed with horror and confusion, she turned and ran down the steep slope toward the tree the girl had spoken of, holding her wand so tightly her hand turned white and trembled. She dropped to her knees and crawled through the tunnel until she could finally stand and begin to search for him.

"No." She sobbed aloud, dropping to her knees, and angrily pushed the splinted wooden cage as far as she could. "No, not like this! Damn you to hell, Snape! Not like this!"

Laying her head on his chest, listening for a faint heartbeat and at the same time clamping her hand over the wound, she held her breath and closed her eyes to concentrate. Hearing only her own heart as it thundered in her ears, she sat on her heels, moved her hand from the gaping wound, and studied the damage done. There was still a pulse, evidenced by the rhythmic bleeding, but she saw it was faint and weak.

Sucking in a deep breath, she began to close the gapping wound. Cauterising first the deepest bleeds, she took time to mend layer by layer of torn tissue, until she finally managed to pull what flesh remained together in a jagged line. Once she was satisfied, she crawled to sit at his head, putting a leg on each side of his body. She hauled him up to her chest and wrapped her legs around him, only thinking of getting him out. Voldemort had already put up wards to keep everyone on the grounds and she knew she could not apparate from here. She had to get him beyond the clearing, beyond the wards, into the Forbidden Forest.

Taking the only option she could think of, she pushed up her left sleeve and reaching her right arm around Snape, she touched her wand to the snake that withered on her flesh, unleashing a searing pain as her transportation began.

Arriving at the clearing, she released Snape, pushed him away from her with a grunt, and sprung to her feet, quickly stepping in front of him and seeking out the Dark Lord, letting out a breath in a rush of relief, as she went unnoticed. Voldemort's back was to her, in front of him Potter, and seeing her chance, she levitated Snape to an upright position. As soon as he rose to a height that cleared his feet from the ground, she held him tightly and apparated away.

They landed on an earthen path outside of an unplotted cottage, only to fall with Snape's weight pulling her down. Try as she might to cushion him, she heard a sickening thud and a slick sliding sound of his blood soaked cloak as she rolled him off her.

"Fuck," she muttered aloud. "Fine mess we are in, Snape. If you don't die now I'll kill you."

Levitating him to follow her up the path to the backdoor, she dropped the wards and stepped in, bringing him along with her. She stopped, wondering if she should take him up the steep stairs to the bedroom or keep him closer to the floo in case they need a fast escape. One more look at Snape confirmed that he was not capable of flight, and with a sigh, she trudged up the steps, floating him behind her, almost grateful that her simple surgery still allowed the wound to bleed as it meant his heart still pumped.

Lowering him to the bed she quickly removed his blood soaked clothing, reducing it to ash, and pulled out all the potions she had on hand, pouring what she could directly onto the reopening wound, knowing she would be unable to get him to swallow.

_Fuck, it's not enough_, she thought.

Glancing down at her own clothing, she made sure to remove all trace of blood before rushing back down to the floo and whisking off to St. Mungo's, her wand held loosely in her hand, ready to battle for more portions if the need arose, already planning which healer would return with her. She would grab the one that had not taken the mark, had pled and begged, had convinced the Lord that he could alter venom, that he alone knew how Nagini's bite could be healed and claimed to have a potion ready.

She convinced him to come, hinting it was the Dark Lord's pleasure and not mentioning who lay close to death, only wringing her hands and tearfully weeping as any distressed witch was apt to do. Not being sure if word had reached him that Snape was a traitor, she held her wand behind her back as she lead the Healer up the narrow staircase to see his patient. When he had turned on her, angrily hissing that he would not cure this bastard, she had pushed the point of her wand into is throat and changed his mind.

Now, a week later, she knew the truth. The Lords accomplice could rid the body of the venom, but nothing could remove the dark magic it contained. Snape was dying. He could not live like this. Not like this, not with the vileness of Voldemort still coursing through his veins, not with his heart beating so fast that it sounded and felt like it would burst in the effort. Levitating him over the bed, she spread out the quilt and lowered him down onto it, wrapping him securely and binding his wrapping with ropes.

"You move him and it's over." The white haired healer that sat on the chair spoke flatly. "He should be dead by now anyway. Damned traitor is what he is."

"Shut up," Constance spat. "You helped keep that fucking snake alive. I should have killed you when I had the chance."

"You have one now," he hissed, pulling against the ropes that held him. "You can't just leave me here. It could take days before I die."

"That's too fucking bad," she quipped. "Is that supposed to pull at my heartstrings?"

"I can remove your mark," he said cautiously. "You go out like that and you won't last long. Let me loose, trust me, let that bastard die, he has served his purpose. I can take care of you now."

"Don't worry about it. I won't be around here long enough to give a fuck." She double checked Snape's binding and pulled out her wand. "What do you want to remember? Nothing? Azkaban or St. Mungo's incurable ward? Your choice."

"Fuck off!" He threw his head back and spat at her, laughing at her look of anger. "Bloody bint, who the hell do you think you are? You have no place to go."

"Say hi to Alice for me," she smirked as the levelled her wand at his forehead and started her incantation.

Once done, she stood and watched drool drip down the old man's chin. Forcing his head up with the tip of her wand, she threw her own head back and brought it forward quickly, adding her own spittle to that of his. Using her wand to slice off the ropes she was not disappointed to note the nick she left on his arm, as she watched it well with blood.

"Bastard," she hissed.

With a look of determination hiding her fear, she went back to Snape, wondering how he would feel about what she was about to do. She wondered if he would curse her, or curse himself, as he was more apt to do. She climbed on the bed, putting her back against the headboard and one leg on either side of him as she had done before, and then pulled him up to her chest, breathing hard at the exertion. Once situated, she pushed her wand to the outside of her left arm, remembering the snide laugh with the sneered instructions she had overheard when Yaxley was instructed to use a _back door_, and felt the burning pain, worse this time then ever before. She felt the snake whither, and hissed in pain, throwing her head back and tightening the muscles in her neck to hold in her screams. With a shudder, as wave after wave of relentless spasms tried to pull her body apart, and the skin on her inner arm blistered, she fought to hold her burden tighter, not to let him slip away.

"Fuck," she grimaced, contorting in pain, clutching him, feeling her finger nails snap in the effort to hold on to him. Wrapping her legs around him for fear he would be lost, all the while holding her wand steady and true, she squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for this to be quick. At last, she felt the pull and spinning sensation that would take them to the other side. The place Voldemort had spoken of in hushed words and secret looks. The place he had almost worshiped, that he had prepared to wash off evil spells and vile curses, a place he had said only he and his chosen could enter, but which in the end, had been denied to even him. This was the place he had promised his loyalist followers, a haven, a sanctuary, and above all, the place she now prayed existed at all.

"Forgive me,'' she sobbed as her reality slipped away, and they disappeared together in a black swirling cloud of oily vapour.


	2. Honouring the Dead

**Disclaimer: Not Mine.**

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**Into the Chasm**

**Chapter 1**

**Honouring the Dead**

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**May 2, 2008**

Hermione Granger stood outside of the Leaky Cauldron and flicked open her cell phone, hit the number 5 and talk, waiting for Ronald to pick up on the other end as she impatiently tapped her foot. Hearing the automated voice telling her to leave voice mail before the phone had even rang once, she knew he was either talking to someone else or had not paid his bill, again.

"Great," she muttered aloud, flipping the phone shut and shoving it in her pocket. Angrily pulling open the door, she went in to wait for him, hoping that Potter at least had the time right.

"Over here!" Harry stood, grinning at her. "Gods, how long has it been?"

"It's good to see you, Harry." She smiled, gave him a weak hug and offered her cheek for a kiss before sliding into the booth, putting her back to the door. "Sit, I just tired calling him. He'll be late as usual."

"Ten years since its been over, doesn't seem possible."

"For you," she muttered, looking around for a server. "Does Hannah still wait tables now that she owns the place?"

"Nah, she is up at Hogwarts more than she is here these days."

"How is Neville? I miss him you know. Every once in a while I think of him and his plants." She shrugged, looking at him sheepishly. "He never did get enough credit for what he did."

"How are you, I mean really," Harry said softly, laying his hand over Hermione's and studying her face. "I haven't seen you alone since you and Ron split. Do you want to talk?"

"That's not my fault. I've invited you and Ginny over."

Harry pulled his hand back and leaned against the high wooden back of the booth. "You know she won't. She…just …she won't"

"I thought she may be here."

"She is meeting us there. The kids are a little excited, and the youngest, Lily…you haven't seen her yet," he grinned and reached in his pocket, pulled out a picture and slid it over to her, "she's a handful right now. We thought it would be too much for her."

"She's cute, Harry. Truly she is." She smiled at the picture of his growing family. "Can I have this?"

"Sure, that's why I brought it."

"Thanks." She slid the picture in her handbag, looked up at Harry in time to see him wave to someone behind her, and then stand in greeting. Knowing that it must be Ronald, she leaned over and peeked around the edge of the booth. Sitting back up, she pressed her lips together in an angry thin line.

"Hermione, come on now. You can do this for one day."

"I said I would, so leave it alone, Potter," she spat, and moved to the far end of the seat, placing her handbag to the side where Ronald would be, putting as much distance as she could between them.

"Hey… Potter." Ron grinned widely, slapping Harry on the back as he slid into his seat, leaving Harry to sit next to Hermione. "Mione, good to see you. Must say you look the same."

"Thanks, it isn't as if you haven't seen me in years," she muttered turning to look over her shoulder again, raising up to see over the top of the booth. "Where is the server?"

"Here, let me get something from the bar," Ron said as he stood. "Harry?"

"Umm, just … better make it tea all around. We have to be there in an hour."

"Tea it is." He grinned and sauntered off.

"He looks good," Harry commented, leaning his arms on the table and speaking quietly.

"He should wear sun-block. You know how he easily burns."

"Right, I can see him with…"

"He should, he'll…never mind. If he doesn't care why should I?"

"He's a wizard, Mione, he won't get skin cancer."

She smirked at him and shook her head. "I must sound awful."

"Yup." He laughed, leaning back, grinning.

"I hate these things," she sighed and leaned back as well, studying Harry's face. "How do you do it? At the five year anniversary I swore I wouldn't do it again, now here I am, ready to tromp around, pretending I am happy and proud to be here."

"It's important." He looked over to where Ronald stood, still waiting for the tea. "We were lucky. We had Dumbledore and others like him. They are all gone now, Hermione. We are the ones that have to keep the history alive, to make sure this never happens again, to honour them."

"Hogwash," she snorted out a bark of laugher. "I've spent a lot of time thinking about them and not one fought for purely unselfish motives. They all had something to gain, on both sides, and don't try to tell me differently."

"Remus?"

"A place, yes, don't look at me like that. His is the easiest motive to see. What else did he have? He owed Dumbledore for taking him in, for giving him an education, and with Teddy he wanted to make sure he had a place as well. What was his other choice? Fall in with Greyback and get this throat ripped out for turning traitor, his son killed as a …a half bred…part animal part human?"

"Tonks? Surely you can't say…"

"Tonks, yeah, think about it Harry. Do you even think she knew what she was getting into? It was her job, that's the way she saw it. An Auror, the daughter of a Muggle born, put that with the way Moody watched over her and encouraged her and you have a young girl that didn't know what she was doing, showing off and looking for recognition. I am not saying that they…thought that what they were doing was for nothing, or that we shouldn't remember them. Just that …we need to stop making it out more than it was. They were…people…not heroes and to make them into something they were not is just…wrong. It's not fair to them or to their memories. It's not fair to glorify what happened and make every one think war is grand and noble."

"You don't believe that."

"Believe what?" Ronald set a small oval tray on the table, took off the cups and levitated the tray back to the bar.

"Seems you wife…"

"Watch it, Harry," Hermione spat.

"I forgot." He frowned at her. "What? Can't wait those last eight months, hey?"

"Harry," Ron said softly, shaking his head as a warning not to let the conversation go where it was. "She's taking the Muggle route."

"Because I am a Muggle." She turned to him angrily. "It's only in this damned place it takes so long to finalize."

"Let's not start," Ron grumbled, picked up a cup of tea, and made a face at the first bitter taste. "She's right, Harry. I accepted the Muggle divorce. Now, talk about something else."

"She was just saying that everyone died for nothing."

"That isn't what I said at all. I said that everyone had their own reason for being in the war, and it was not all heroic and noble like everyone wants to pretend."

"My brother?"

"You know I loved him. Don't, Ronald, don't even start on this. It's not fair and you know it."

"What about Sirius?" Ronald looked at Harry from under his brows, watching Harry's face become hard, knowing he had stuck a cord.

"He didn't die in the war," Hermione said in an almost whisper. "He died saving us. Do you think I have forgotten that? Just like Harry's parents died for him. They didn't to something noble and grand. They were murdered trying to save their son. Quite different things form what they want us to preach today, about goodness and light, and being courageous and just. Anyway, you said yourself he may not be dead…not the way we think of it…just…I don't know...crossed over…that's what Christians say."

"So what do you plan to talk about?" Harry said evenly. "Do you intend to take the podium and tell everyone their loved ones died for nothing?"

"No," she said, looking into his eyes directly. "I plan on talking about Neville. He was the one that really ended everything. Without Nagini, Voldemort was doomed anyway. What we did was just hammer in the last nail."

"Not soon enough," Ron muttered. "If we had found out about Snape sooner we may have been able to save more.'

"It's time we went," Harry said, uncomfortable with the conversation and all the other 'what if's' he had thought about over the years.

"No, Harry, he has a point. You keep waxing on about how great Snape was, but his body was burnt with the rest of the Death Eaters. They must have had a lot more on him than what we know for them to have done that. Want to talk about not fair? Start there. Why do you defend him and curse the Malfoys? Wasn't Narcissa the one that really made the difference? At the end, when it counted, wasn't it she that stepped up? If she hadn't been there, and done what she did, we could have found Voldemort in charge."

"I never said she didn't."

"No, but you never said she did. She was there last time and no one said one word about her. How do you think Draco feels, sitting there…?"

"Draco?" Ron echoed incredulously. "Who cares about him? They did what they did to save their skins."

"Get over it, Ronald. It's over. We need to be honest about it and tell the world what really happened, not all this shite the Ministry wants us to feed them. Where was the Ministry when we needed them? Narcissa was at least there when we needed her. So what? She saved her son. Was she any different than us? She did what she did for selfish motives, and so did our side. That's all I'm saying. Both sides fought for what they believed in and both sides killed the other."

After an uncomfortable silence, they finished their tea and used the floo for the remainder of their trip to Hogwarts. Once they stepped out of the fireplace in the Headmistress's office, they were greeted by the Head Boy and Girl of each house and led to the reception. Hermione pressed her lips together, sensing the animosity between the houses, disappointed that it still existed. As she took her seat with the other speakers, she wondered why the division had been allowed to go on.

Hermione sat on a folding chair, waiting for her turn to speak, watching as Ronald took his position at the podium. _Strange_, she thought, _that he should seem so calm and confident_. Strange and unsettling that his life had somehow worked out better without her. Better, that he had moved on and created a new life for himself. She felt her throat constrict and the familiar sting behind her eyes only to bite the inside of her cheek and continue to stare straight ahead.

At first, when she had taken her position at the Museum, he had been supportive and proud, telling everyone about his wife's accomplishments and her recognition in both worlds. Soon, he realized that whereas she continued to learn, continued to find new and exciting finds, he fought the same prejudices and foolishness he had seen for years. He had tried to immerse himself into his work as an Auror with the same passion that he had once felt, but as the time went on, he tired of fighting the same thing day after day.

He had taken up Charlie's suggestion and joined him in Egypt for the summer while Hermione threw herself into her new job, working in the same camp where his older brother was in charge. Although he was there to work as a general labourer, cleaning out stone and dirt, allowing the Curse Breakers easier access to their prise, he was hooked. Hooked and fascinated at the life of a Curse Breaker with its travel, fast pace and dangerous discoveries.

The next year he studied, all the while trying to convince Hermione to join him. In the end, he went back without her, becoming a Curse Breaker himself and coming home less and less often. It wasn't until the owl appeared with Muggle divorce papers that he realized it had been a year since he had been home for more than two days at a time, the last time not even seeing his wife, and that Hermione was no longer waiting.

Now, she sat watching his back as he clutched the podium and spoke of the night their world had ended, for it surely had. Never would they be wide-eyed innocents fighting evil wizards as if playing a game of chess again and thinking the world would be better for it. The world for them had only become emptier and lonelier, devoid of fifty friends and loved ones that left them behind to dig the graves and to grieve not only for the loss of life, but for their very way of life.

Hermione waited until Ronald turned to her, then stood up and took his outstretched hand, allowing him to guide her to the podium and to start her own memories of the battle. She spoke of blood slick floors and lifeless eyes, not glorious death and proud deeds. She spoke of dead bodies, laid on tables which students now sat at and sipped cold drinks. She felt Ronald's hand rest on her shoulder as she struggled to keep her voice level and coldly recount the battle in all her inglorious memories.

The hall was quiet, devoid of applause and cheers for the heroes or their actions, which she depicted in grisly detail, and not lofty ideals. She turned her attention to the lack of burials. Telling the students how the Death Eaters were burnt, their ashes lost, and wondered aloud where Professor Snape, the one who had lost the least, because he had nothing to lose now laid, or if his ashes were now assigned to lay with murderers and warmongers and not with the Order's other fallen. She spoke of Narcissa and a mother's choice, finishing with the story of the quiet Herbology Professor. She saw heads turn to gaze at Neville where he stood in the back of the hall, head lowered and breathing heavily as the list of what he had lost even before he was a student in there hallowed halls was laid out .

She didn't feel the tears that coursed down her face, just confused when she could no longer read her notes, and surprised but glad to find Ronald turning her away from the podium and into his chest.

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"My, that went well. I made a fool of myself," Hermione said flatly, accepting a glass of spiked pumpkin juice from Minerva.

"It is to be expected," Minerva said, tuning to stand next to Hermione to look out at the festivities with her. "This place holds bitter memories. More for you, I would imagine."

"Because I am…"

"_Because _you have not been back but once in ten years," Minerva said quickly. "It is the way you remember it. I have had ten years of students stuffing their faces to push my memories of what these tables were once used for away."

"I feel old here," Hermione grinned, nodding out to the sea of faces in front of her. "I don't know any of these kids, and even the last names seem foreign."

"More families are allowing their children to come now. With the war over they feel it is safer, and without someone pulling strings and deciding who can be educated and who should not, the halls are once again filled."

"I thought you would have retired by now."

"That, Mrs. Weasley, is completely uncalled for. I still have a few years left in me."

"It is Miss Granger, and I meant no insult, only that you deserve it."

"Deserve to be put out? I think not, _Mrs. Weasley_," she said, then pressed her lips together in a straight line.

"_Miss Granger_," Hermione said, matching her look. "Even here it will be _Miss Granger_ in a matter of months."

"At that time I will address you as such. However, at this time, in this place, I shall not."

"Fine," Hermione muttered. "I did mean to ask you if I can have a few minutes in the library. The museum has just taken procession of a tablet of runes, and although their authenticity has been established, I have my doubts."

"You have always doubted what you could not prove," Minerva sighed.

"These were found on the Albanian border; only the language isn't pure Latin and the carbon dating puts it far before runes were introduced into that part of the world. I thought I had seen something here that may help."

"Of course my dear, take all the time you want. I would have been surprised if you had not had other reasons for coming. Furthermore, I trust you not to make public our knowledge of the magic the runes hold."

"Of course not. The ones I am researching are already in Muggle hands. It should only take moment, if I remember correctly the book I need is one for seventh year. If I had saved my own, I wouldn't need to be here."

"I am surprised that you forgot your runes so quickly. You were an excellent student."

"Thank you, but no, there is a list of … runes that have been incorrectly included in some texts…Muggle and Magical…ruses…not real runes at all. I didn't bother with them at the time, they seemed inconsequential, but now find that I need to see that list again."

"There are several copies in the dungeons, as we have replaced the text books for seventh year lessons. I have converted Professor Snapes old quarters to a storage area. If you care to look there, you may be able to find one. Be aware, however, that nothing is arranged properly."

"Thank you," she said surprised at Minerva's generosity.

"Yes, dear," Minerva patted her hand and started across the room, tossing out the last over her shoulder, "just leave ten galleons on the table. Books, even old ones, do not come free."

Hermione grinned and took a sip of her pumpkin juice, then set it down and headed for the door, now having an excuse for leaving the luncheon. She had almost made it to the hallway when Ginny caught up to her, nervously calling out to her.

"Ginny," Hermione tried to smile. "I saw Lily's picture. She is gorgeous, you must be so proud of her and the boys of course, but a girl! The rest of the family must be ecstatic."

"They are." She smiled and nodded her head. "Leaving so soon? I had hoped to talk."

"Just for a moment. I am…buying a book."

"Neville told her to just pitch them, but you know how she is," Ginny said with a laugh. "Come, I'll walk with you. Did you bring your wand?"

"No, I don't carry it often," she said, suddenly thinking that she would need a Lumos to find what she wanted. "Sure, come on, we can catch up."

They walked the first half of the way in an uncomfortable silence, each thought madly of something to say to start the conversation. Hermione cleared her throat, twice opening her mouth only to close it again.

"I blamed you," Ginny finally said, looking straight ahead. "I couldn't understand why you wouldn't go with him. I still don't, but…I just wanted to let you know I forgive you."

"Forgive me?" Hermione stopped, waiting until Ginny realized she was no longer walking at her side and turned around. "_You_…forgive…_me_?

"Yes," Ginny frowned. "I just told you I didn't see why you refused to go with him. I was upset about it and…I just don't' understand you at all. If it had been Harry, I would have gone, even if I didn't want to leave here."

"Because my job is here? Did that ever cross your mind?"

"Well, yes…but you only do research. You can do that anywhere, he had to leave if he was ever going to make something of himself."

"Right, _only,_" Hermione muttered as she pushed by Ginny and continued down the hall, opening the door to Snape's old chambers and waited for Ginny to light the candles. "He went to Egypt and left me sitting on my arse for the entire summer, and then a year later left for months at a time. I should have just thrown everything I wanted away and followed him like some kind of … of whore following the troops?"

"He was…is…you husband."

Hermione walked around tables filled with old books, picking up the one she sought. "He was never a husband, he was a grown up kid that never wanted responsibility, only good times. You know it wasn't just the time he spent away, that I could have dealt with."

"He never had a chance at being a kid, Hermione, not like you did. You got to leave for the summers, at least, you got away from the war for a while," Ginny said, walking along the outside of the room, examining the shelves. "Hermione, look at this. They kept Snape's personal library. It must be worth a fortune."

"Yes, nice," Hermione muttered. "I'll have you know I gave up everything for him, everything and … never mind. I don't want to go over it again. Just stay out of it Ginny, things happened."

"I said…look at the books."

"That's not like Minerva to hide something of value down here. Why weren't they moved up to the Hogwarts' library?"

"I don't know," Ginny mused. "Some of these are really old. I can't even make out the languages on the spines."

"Let me see." Hermione joined her, running her finger over the books, clicking off the ones she had heard of, or read, making mental notes of the subjects. Lowering her arm, she turned in a complete circle, seeing the entire room lined with bookcases.

"Wow," Ginny whispered.

"Indeed," Hermione said, frowning and crossing the room and climbing over stacks of boxes piled on the floor, to examine another self. "Ginny, did Snape impress you as a highly organized person? I mean…the way he catalogued his ingredients and potions?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Help me find his bedchamber. It has to be behind one of these book cases."

Ginny pulled her wand and shouted Lumos as loudly as she could, followed by a soft Nox, plunging the room they were in, into total darkness. "Check for lights coming through the cracks."

Hermione raised her eyebrow and nodded, silently thinking it was a good idea, but feeling they should remain quiet now that they were in total darkness. She walked in front of the cases, keeping one hand on the books to make sure she stayed in the narrow path in front of them.

"Here," Ginny's voice rang out in the dark a moment before the room was again flooded in light. "It should just swing out. You better get in the habit of carrying your wand, I could use some help here."

Ginny began levitating books from the table that blocked the shelve from opening, as Hermione did it by hand, pressing her lips together in anger at Ginny remarks, while at the same time recognising that she was correct. Once the books were moved off the tabletop, Ginny shrunk it down and kicked it out of the way, allowing the bookcase to swing open and letting them gain access.

"Good Merlin," Hermione sighed, seeing the books haphazardly thrown on the floor, the bookcases toppled. "If there was any system in here it is too late to find it."

"What are you looking for?"

"The books, Ginny. There is no rhyme or reason to the sorting. Not by subject, author, topic…not even language or age. They are mixed, stored wrong, Snape would never do this. No one would. Even Ronald had his chess and Quidditch books on different shelves. I don't get it. Snape knew better, he knew the system, he never would treat his own library like this."

"Maybe this room was damaged during the battle. This is the same side of the castle that the wall fell on."

"No doubt, but the inner room…that's all mixed up. This one we will never know about."

"Anyway, we should get back," Ginny sighed. "I can't leave the kids any longer."

"You go on," Hermione walked back into the first room, biting her lip, as she inspected a row of books. "I'll be up later."

She pushed the books on the table in front of her aside, and looked for parchment and quill, finally going down to the old potions lab to find some. Spreading out a fresh sheet she began listing the books per shelf, looking for a pattern, and then examined the case as if it were laying on its side, top to bottom, and then bottom to top.

"Do you plan on spending the night," Ronald asked from his position in the doorway, arms folded over his chest, leaning on his shoulder against the jamb.

"Oh." Hermione looked up, feeling a cramp in the back of her neck. "I lost track of time."

"You do that a lot."

"Not that it is any of your business." She stood up folding the parchment. "Neville said he or Hannah would see me back to London."

"They left."

"I can floo."

"Not at this hour. Even now, Minerva shuts the floos off at midnight."

"I don't need a wand to Apparate."

"No, but you're not strong enough to make it in one turn."

"Shut up, Ronald. I can get my self home."

"No, no you can't. Your second apparation point in Godrick's no longer exists. Try it and you will be imbedded in a marble monument."

"Bloody hell. Has this whole world gone crazy? There are more monuments then dead."

Ronald grinned and lowered his chin to his chest. "Mum even wanted one at The Burrow for the anniversary. Dad talked her out of it. I can take you back."

"I don't think so. Is Harry still here?"

"You haven't even talked to me. Did I say or do something wrong this time?"

"This time? No, I don't think so. The last time we talked you said quite enough."

"So, I take it you don't plan on getting over this anytime soon."

"I am over it," she said as she studied his face. "It is you that needs to get over it, or her, as the case may be. I am sorry it didn't work out for you."

"You are wrong, Mione, even if you don't believe it, you are wrong."

"I don't even care if you slept with her. You don't have to bed someone else to end a marriage. It was over long before that. You stopped talking to me until we didn't know how. You stopped coming home until you were a stranger. You stopped…" she choked, turning to gather her parchment into a neat pile. "Now, that you know I am done waiting you want to be friends. Is that it?"

"I thought we could talk."

"You thought," she snorted. "How novel. Go talk to your other friends. You were in town for two days in four months and you still didn't want to talk to me. So go talk to her now."

"Fine," he spat. "Minerva says she put out a blanket and pillow in your old common room, the beds are all taken with planned visitors and all, you can sleep on the couch and find a way home in the morning. I am done."

She watched him walk away, seeing his familiar stride, still able to see his childhood frame under the man that he had become , and wondered briefly if he still saw her as the bushy haired schoolgirl, before she turned back to the bookcases.


	3. Still at it

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

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**The Chasm**

**Chapter 2**

**Still at it?**

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"I don't believe you stayed up all night sorting out bookshelves." Neville quipped walking into the dungeon storage rooms.

"All night? What time is it?"

"Let me put it this way. You better hurry if you want breakfast."

"No, but a cuppa would hit the spot," she said tiredly. "With no windows, I lost track of time."

"Find anything?"

"Well, I am not sure, but I think so. I am trying to find what's missing."

"Umm, Hermione, if it's missing how will you know what it is?"

"Smart arse," she grinned up at him.

"The floo is open, that or you can hit the bed in my chambers. I am off to lessons and Hannah is already gone."

"I'd like that. I do want to finish this room and there is more in the old bedchamber behind the bookcase. The books aren't even on the shelves in there."

"He had an elf you know. Get Minerva to order her to help you, that or… you don't have to do this at all. It's been trashed for ten years and just gets worse each time Minerva refuses to throw something out and hides it down here."

"He had his own elf? I thought he hated elves. I thought he hated everyone. Anyway, you should see the books down here! It's like a giant treasure hunt. Half of them are so old I am afraid to touch them, and such books! Beautifully handwritten, engravings and… sorry. "

Neville shrugged and ginned at her. "She was him mum's. Seems when her mum died, Eileen Prince inherited the family's elf, she sent it here to wait on him when he was old enough for school. Since she couldn't keep it, she must have thought it was the next best thing and that after that he would want it. Guess it never happened."

"In my knitting days I heard that he didn't allow elves down here," she puzzled.

"You haven't met Millie, she can be quite the handful," he laughed loudly. "I am surprised she hasn't been down here already scolding you for disturbing her master's books."

"Elves avoid me," Hermione said flatly. "Shut up, Neville, don't say it."

"Wouldn't think of it," he said laughing. "So, you know where my chambers are?"

"Yeah, I just need a couple hours of sleep and I'll be fine." She stood and stretched her cramped muscles. "Maybe you can ask this Millie to talk to me?"

"Sure, just sleep first. She is something like you in one regard. If you ask for her help now, she will get right to it and not let you sleep until it's finished. Now go."

"Neville, about yesterday…I don't want you to think…"

"I'm glad you said it. Kids forget, or don't know what war is. They only see the medals and statues; they need to know about what truly happens. The dead bodies and what killing does to people. Hannah still has trouble sometimes. Thunder, loud noises, even the smell of the fireplace will set her off. "

"I was concerned that you may think…"

"I'll let you know when something bothers me. Now go. Sleep."

Hermione did just that, lying down on Neville and Hannah's bed she shut her eyes and was asleep before a tiny elf popped in with a tray of tea. It did not matter that Hermione was sleeping as Millie planned to wait. She did not like people poking and prodding into her master's chambers and planned to keep her eye on this one. The Elf walked up to the bed and peered in the sleeping face, using one long finger and lifting hair off the woman's face, trying to discern who it was.

Jumping back in horror, recognising the great crusader, she ran behind a chair that sat in the corner, thinking this was a better place to wait, not thinking to leave, since she was to do this work for her master. She patted her head and looked around the room, then made a mad dash to the fireplace she dumped the floo powder box on her head. Smiling and quite pleased that now, a hat would not fit.

.

Hermione woke in only a couple of hours, as had become her habit in the last year or so. She moaned and rolled to her back, wishing the dreams would stop, wishing that occasionally she could remain asleep until she woke on her own. Since Ronald had first left for his summer with Charlie, her dreams and nightmares had only become worse. At first, she had thought it was the stress of her job, and then the stress of her marriage, but once she resigned herself to the impending divorce they had not lessened. Not only had they not lessened, but they had grown stronger, as if the longer from the war, the more she couldn't forget.

After a silently served tea from a very nervous elf, Hermione decided to take a walk through the castle. It had been years since she had been here and wanted to revisit her old haunts before the students got out of class and the professors were free to disturb her peace. Once on the astronomy tower, she called Millie who brought a hot cup of tea, handing it to Hermione before quickly disappearing with a look of smugness in the fact she knew how her charge took her tea.

Holding the cup in both hands Hermione brought it to her nose and smelled the deep bitter vapour that curled over the rim of the cup. Then, lifting her head, she looked out to the lake. She saw the sparkling ripples caused by a gentle breeze as it wafted over the water. Letting her eyes travel to the shore she watched the students circle back to the castle on the eastern path, then turned and saw the path on the west, remembering walking it herself on the way to the Whomping Willow.

She set the cup down and walked to the edge, peering down and studying what she had seen everyday for almost seven years. The confluence of the east and west path was not the gentle curve she remembered, not from here, not from this view. The lines were angular, angular and precise.

Running to the opposite side of the platform she leaned over the edge, looking down and saw the east and west path cross one another behind the castle, no longer keeping direction, no longer in a graceful arch, but continuing on in harsh straight lines.

"Odal," she muttered aloud, knowing the castle itself sat in the middle of the O of the ancient rune.

Looking toward the Forbidden Forest, she saw the straight path that ended at Hagrid's hut, dividing, as if a fork in the road and not the rune it was. _Algiz, _she thought.

She dug in her pockets looking for her cell phone, feeling foolish as she did, but needing to talk. Stomping her feet and clapping she screamed out for Millie at the same time scanning the opposite side of the castle, up towards the Quidditch Pitch. Sowilo.

"Yes, Missus of Weasley."

"Don't say that," she scowled. "I am Miss Granger."

"Yes, Missus of…yes Missus." Millie choked on the words; unable to say what she knew was not true in this world.

"Fine," Hermione ground out. "I need my handbag…no, it won't work anyway. I need… fuck."

"Missus?" Millie looked over her shoulder and back at Hermione.

"I need A History of Hogwarts, the first edition, the oldest. No, not that…it wouldn't have had a history yet…something on the original building, how the founders planned this place…even before that. Anything on this valley before the castle was built."

Millie reached her hand to Hermione. "I takes you."

"Thanks," Hermione sighed, knowing that elf travel was faster but more disorientating then anything else.

Feeling the squeeze and spinning sensation begin, she gritted her teeth, suddenly thinking of the height difference between her and Millie and hoping she did not fall on her face when she landed. Once she picked her self up from the floor, she was surprised to find herself back in the dungeon storage room.

"Millie, I need the library."

Millie rushed into the destroyed room, dug in the pile of books and picked up the one Hermione had requested, placing it reverently in her hands and bowing deeply before retrieving another and placing it on the table. Hermione looked from the book in her hands to the shelves and grinned, as she suddenly understood the numbers and symbols stencilled on the spines of the books.

"Runes." She snorted a laugh. "That git used a rune counting system, that son of a bitch! Millie, your master was a bloody genius."

Millie's face darkened and she scowled, putting her hands on her hips and pointed a shaking finger at Hermione.

"No!" she said a second before she threw out a blast of magic, toppling Hermione onto the floor. "He is my Eileen's."

"Yeah, well…sorry." She winced as she felt her back spasm from the fall.

"Mrs. Weasley, what is the meaning of this?" Minerva stood at the entrance to the storage room.

"I was looking for something," Hermione rubbed her bum and scowled at Millie.

"I must ask you to leave these quarters. They are not open to the public and I will not have them destroyed."

"Pro…Headmistress, why are his books still down here?"

Minerva gazed around the room, her eyes looking to Millie, before turning back to Hermione. "It was the Professor's wish that his belongings stay here for a term before his bequest to the school became final."

"That's odd," Hermione muttered, looking at the tome that lay on the table with obvious envy.

"Given his…profession...not odd at all. He often disappeared, often for days at a time. I think he wanted to make sure if he was ever…indisposed ….for a lengthily time, his books would still be here upon his return."

"Minerva, it has been ten years. Harry and I saw him die."

"That may be, however, our legal department agrees that his bequest holds."

"How much longer before they are opened to research?"

"Two more years, Mrs. Weasley. I am sure you can wait a bit longer to tear into his belongings. Furthermore, at that time I am afraid certain items must be thoroughly inspected before allowing …"

"What? You intend to censure his books? You cannot mean it. That …that is… that should be illegal."

"At that time you may take your concerns to the Ministry. I, however, will not allow the dark arts to be unleashed again, and if my guess is correct many of his tomes were devoted to that subject."

"Bull shite, we need to know the dark arts if we are ever going to understand them and fight against them," she muttered under her breath. "I may read in here? If I promise not to remove anything?"

"Mrs. Weasley, these chambers are…"

"I know his system now. I will gladly restore the other room to the proper order, in keeping with his…wishes and his sorting method. I will even offer to come back in two years time and sort them correctly for the library."

"I think not. Nor do I want this to turn into one of your many projects, Mrs. Weasley. This room has been off limits to students since the conflict and for good reason. The outer wall is unsafe. I do not want students wandering…"

"Just the rest of the day, Minerva. I am sure it will not take much longer than a few hours," Hermione said tersely. "I could petition the Board of Governors if you would prefer. If you force me to do that, this…this mausoleum will become public knowledge. Do you want that?"

"Fine, you will not mind if I leave Millie with you? Millie, do make sure the rules are obeyed and she is done by the end of the work day."

"Of course not," Hermione turned back to the elf. "What is she anyway? Some sort of attack elf?"

"She is…overly loyal to the school and this area. You should be familiar with the idea. At one time I thought the same of you."

"When did we get off on such a bad foot, Minerva? Even the last time I was here, you didn't want me in these sacred halls. What have I done to offend you?"

"You have made a travesty of our laws, Mrs Weasley, and belittled our fallen. I, unfortunately, can do nothing to keep you away. Although until today, I thought you had made your decision to do just that, and leave our world. However, if you continue to …visit…I may need to ask you to come only when term is out."

"I see," Hermione spoke evenly, fighting not to rail at the older witch. "I am corrupting the morals of your students? Or is it the fact that I do not wish to live here?"

"Your words, not mine. In this world, divorce is frowned upon, as it should be, as is taking the education and training you have been afforded and doing nothing with it. Do make sure you extinguish the candles when you are done." Minerva spun around and walked down the hall, her heels tapping on the stone floor.

"Since you knew _exactly_ where that book was, I know you remember _exactly _how the books were kept on the shelves." Hermione waited until Minerva was out of earshot then turned to Millie. "Then, I trust that you have a reason for not sorting them out eons ago."

"Yes, Missus Hermione Granger." Millie's ears drooped and she twisted her hands together in anguish.

"Thank you, Millie," Hermione smiled at the use of her maiden name. "I am sorry, but he's not coming back. No matter how much you want him too."

"I am house of Snape," the elf wailed.

"Oh…yes, well," she stammered not knowing what to say. "After the time is up will you go with the books? You know…then you would be a Hogwarts Elf."

Mille ran her arm over her eyes, wiping off her tears before nodding her head sadly and running out of the room and into the bedchamber to begin her work. Hermione frowned and followed her as far as the door.

"Millie, I asked you why you have not done this sooner."

"The secret books."

"Yes," Hermione sighed, looking back at the rows of books. "I imagine there are several down here. Do you know which ones those would be?"

Millie shook her head and sniffed loudly.

"Millie, how many books on old runes are here?" She saw Millie's blank face and tried again. "Did he ever say, or did you ever overhear him talk about… about etchings, something before runes? Maybe…languages…or….something he was excited to have found."

"No, not Missus Weasley."

"Are all his books on the shelves or on the floor in there?"

"No, not Missus Weasley."

"Millie," Hermione squatted down and studied the elf, seeing the worried look and the way she wrung her hands. "If he had…important things …historically important…and I promise to give him credit for the research he has already done… will you show them to me?"

Mille sniffed loudly, and dragged her ears as she walked to the bed, climbed up on the wooden canopy, and tossed four books down to the matrices. She looked down at Hermione sadly and with a loud wail put her hand into one of the corner posts, and pulled out a scroll and passed it down as well.

Hermione could not believe what she held in the hands. She had no idea how to read the ancient script, nor any understanding of how old it was, but the carefully drawn representations of the same new runes that she had seen at the museum now looked back at her. She ran her finger over the fabric that had tied it closed, not even able to identify the part of the world it came from.

"Thank you," she flopped on the edge of the bed, unable to keep her knees from buckling.

"You takes care and says it master's."

"Millie…I … I am going to try to take pictures of it…but … when I am done you hide it again. I'd be afraid to move it from here." She carried it carefully to the table in the outer room, intent on examining it as much as she could, and short of that to capture its image on her camera in the short amount of time she had left.

Later that night she flooed back to the Leaky Cauldron and stepped out to Muggle London, again flipping her cell open but this time calling the Museum.

"Hermione? What in damnation do you want? Do you know what time it is?"

"Yeah, listen, Frank, you know that new stone tablet they found, the one with the runes they found in Albania?"

"Sure, what about it?"

"It's not Elder Futhark, it's the parent. It predates anything we have seen. And, listen to this, those new markings, they're not ruses…they are part of the parent language."

"And you know this how?"

"I can't give you anything concrete, not yet, but trust me on this."

"Another one of your _feelings_?"

"When have I steered you wrong, Frank?"

"Oh, once a week for the past …three years now. Okay, what do you want me to do about it?"

"Sit it on, don't let anyone near it. No one. Got it?"

"What have we got here, Hermione?"

"I don't know yet, but we can't let it out, not yet. Frank, if this is the parent, if this is truly what I think it is, it could go back more then a thousand years before any known alphabet. Frank, listen…what if the runes were not based on the known alphabets, but reversed? The alphabets on the runes. We have to make sure before we announce what we have but I can't shake it…it fits."

"Holy shite," Frank muttered. "If this is what you think it is we just made news."

"News? Frank, it this is what I think it is we just made history. I need you to do one thing, send me a picture on your cell, then erase it, and for heavens sake keep your mouth shut."

"Got it. You coming in?"

"No, I will be out researching. Make up an excuse for me, okay? Put me on sabbatical, anything…I need time."

"Right, you need anything you call."

"There may not be cell-towers. I can't trust that my phone will work, or that I'll even be able to charge it."

"Pick up a new one when you get where ever you are going, and a set of adapters. Put the cost on your expense account. Don't worry about us. Just… find what you are looking for."

"Frank, lock it up. Put it somewhere…fuck, get it off site and somewhere no one would think to look. Do not take it home, if this gets out it will be the most valuable thing in the Museum. Protect it."

Hermione lifted her arm and flagged down a taxi, excited about work for the first time since Ronald had left.


	4. Enlisting Help

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

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**The Chasm**

**Chapter 3**

**Enlisting Help **

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Hermione downloaded the pictures she had taken in the dungeons to her computer, then opened her e-mail and retrieved the ones she had already sent, pleased when she could see the pages clearly enough to decipher. At first, the small sparks of magic in the storage room had concerned her, but as they had remained constant and did not strengthen or change their pattern, she had been able to snap off quick shots once she had learned to time the intervals between them and before the magic had drained the battery.

Printing out each of the forty-eight runes on a separate sheet of paper, she made two stacks. One pile she sorted the twenty- four known runes into, and the second the unknown. First, she inspected the known set, carefully, noting the slight differences, the lilting ends, the small curls, seeing a more delicate hand, a more precise method of execution, a beautiful fluidity of motion. She saw the influence of later writers and knew the depiction was not what the original scribes had intended.

Turning her attention to the pile unknown to her, or to any Muggle scholar, she frowned and began to sort by number of intersecting lines, as Snape's notes had indicated he had in his first attempt to understand what he was looking at. Studying the runes that now lay on the bottom of the stack; she found that they all contained many more lines and intersecting angles then the previously known runes. Downloading the text of the book into the computer, she again hit print, and waited for the image of the scroll itself to come off the printer.

Grabbing her old Latin book, three others on ancient languages, the seventh year book on runes, and a thin barely used note book with all she could find of Snape's research, she headed for the kitchen table, and then put on a pot of tea. As she waited for the water to heat, she found her cell phone had recharged enough to use, and hit her speed dial.

"Hermione?"

"Harry, can you talk?"

"I was just getting ready to head back into the Ministry, but yeah, for a couple of minutes."

"Remember that book you had, the one Snape used to have?"

"The potions text, of course."

"I found another one that he has written all over. I don't have the original, but a good copy. I can use some help reading his handwriting. It's the abbreviations that are going to stump me…like…HMO."

"The Headmaster's office. It's really easy."

"Right, like I would know that." She rolled her eyes and grabbed the hot water kettle off the flame. "I would have guessed Her Majesty's Opposition."

"Give me another," he chuckled.

"HH, and don't tell me it's His Highness."

"Simple…Hagrid's Hut. He used to list the closest place her could get ingredients."

"Show off," she laughed. "Okay, smart arse, D."

"D? Durmstrang? That or Dumbledore…it would depend on what he was noting."

Hermione set down the hot water and turned back to the books on the table. "Harry, can you get me in there? Just to look around. I want to see it. Even if all I do is fly over it."

"Beauxbatons would be easier if you just need a school."

"Maybe that too…yeah, maybe. Beauxbatons is rather new, I mean it's what? Seven hundred years old? Would he have just used a B?"

"Yeah, I think so…or a BX more likely. What's up?"

"If you can come over as a friend, and not an Auror…can you? It's the only way I will talk about this."

"Hermione? What are you doing?" He sighed and she could almost see him frown.

"I asked you a question first."

"I …I don't know."

"Then neither do I," she said tersely.

"Hermione, come on, you can't expect me to take you…."

"I'll go myself. Piss off Potter." She flipped her phone closed and thought of who else could get her into the school with such strict security that not even known loyalists were admitted. Her phone rang, and with a sigh, she flipped it up. "Yes, Potter."

"Don't do that to me."

Grinning she pulled the phone from her ear and shut it off. Knowing that he could not rest until he found out what she wanted. Glancing at the clock, she set two cups on the table and measured out loose tea into a pot, pouring the hot water over it and looking back to the clock.

Setting the cups on the table with a pot of milk, she then went into the sitting room and quickly levitated the blankets and pillows from the sofa, not wanting to get into another conversation about how she was doing with the evidence of her lack of sleep in front of her. Waiting a few minutes for the tea to steep, she poured two cups, walked to the door and pulled it open in time to see Harry raise his hand, ready to knock.

"My, what a surprise," she intoned walking back to the kitchen.

"You did that on purpose."

"Of course I did. When have you ever managed to keep your nose out of something?"

"Look who's talking," he snorted. "Now spill."

"You first, as I said."

"I could confiscate these books," he said as he pointed to the table, curiously tilting his head in an ill-concealed effort to read the spines.

"Do it, and I yell rape."

"They would never believe you."

"It wouldn't matter. Once I say it there will always be those who think it is true and Ginny has only talked to me once…sorry, twice in three years," she said with a smirk, watching his face dance between disbelief, horror and back to disbelief.

"You would do that?" he asked incredulously.

"Damned right I would." She sat down, grinned and sipped her tea. "Have some?"

"Fine, I'll have a bloody cup of tea with a ….friend. That's it though, so no crazy plans."

She smiled and pushed his cup across the table and then leaned forward and began to tell him what she had found. Ending with her discovery that Hogwarts was in the centre of a rune, as were the grounds by the Quidditch Pitch and the Forbidden Forest. Pushing the stack of unknown runes in front of him, she smiled smugly.

"These were in a book in Snape's library. That son of a bitch was hiding them, but since his notes are so sparse, I don't think he spent much time on them. However, the museum has just found a complete tablet with the same inscriptions, so don't dare tell me to stay out of it. They're in public as well as Muggle domain."

"Why would Snape have hidden them?"

"My guess is that once the war was over he could have made a bloody fortune and if you remember, he didn't have a lot of free time. He has all sorts of things he must have been researching, his library is huge."

"Are they all like this?" Harry looked up from the pictures, obviously confused.

"All but one." She flipped over the pile to what had been the top. "It is the only new one with no angles. Strange, but it may just be in there to throw off someone trying to break the language. Many of the ancient texts were like that, but there is…something else. I want you to look at that, really look at it, before I tell you what I think. It's like Uruz…but not. Can you see the difference?"

Harry pushed the drawing of a misshaped U back to her frowning. "So, you think the other schools are protected by runes also?"

"It would fit. Only, no, not…not exactly. By the time they built the schools, I think the runes had already been bastardized into something mystical, not the language they were. That's not what I am interested in, the markings on the ground only made everything click into place, but by themselves, they mean nothing. I think that at one time the runes were…real. Concrete, touchable, something …seen. I think what we call runes were tangible…then, used in written form…developing an alphabet. First, look at these." She turned the picture towards her and tapped it with her finger. "This one is too obvious to be a ruse. Don't you think?"

Harry looked at the inverted U that now faced her and became quiet, suddenly carried back in time and seeing a similar shape.

"Harry? Do you see it?"

"It's wrong. The lines…imagine them thicker, wider at the bottom, more…," he whispered, looking up at her face. "The arch, the one at the Ministry."

"That's what I thought." She turned the paper upside down and looked at it form the angle Harry had seen it, then watched as he took it and make the slight changes he had spoken of. "You could be …no, Harry. Imagine it in stone, roughly cut and thick.

Look at Dagaz; it could be the floor plan at Hogwarts. Put the courtyard at one end and the greenhouses at the other end…," she mused. "Harry, we could make a ton of stuff out of this. Mostly it would be romantic nonsense, meaning nothing. Only what if…some time between when the Arch was made, and the period that the founders laid out Hogwarts, things changed. Runes became a written language, not …real and tangible. We need to find out when, and then keep going back. I truly think we are going to find that even the Latin that we have always thought the runes were based on, was instead based on the…living runes."

"You are nutters," he tried to joke, looking up at her grimly.

"What if Harry? What if is possible for a rune to actually…be? I don't mean like the stuff that is already there, like Hogwarts sitting in the middle of a rune, that doesn't mean anything, not truly. I saw the original plans, and it is there, right there on the parchment. Only…Hogwarts was built later, by people that thought they understood what they were looking at, after the runes had been corrupted into what we see today. Maybe the arch is from before, part of a whole. Uruz, Sudden or unexpected changes…it looks close to that, upside down, and rounded, but… Harry, what if it did correlate to what is at the Ministry?"

"The arch is older than the runes. That's what you are saying, only you think…the arch is…or was…the real thing," Harry said aloud, making sure he understood what she was saying.

"So are these. We are off...we are off by centuries, a millennium or more, if I am right…if Snape had any idea of what he was looking at…He has it here in his notes," she pushed the copy of the notebook over to him. "I want to find out. I want to find out when runes stopped being drawn on the ground and became a language. Then I want to find out what they were before they were a language. I want to find out why. Why these images. We have always thought they were a corruption of the Latin alphabet…but what if they came first? What if it was the runes that gave the alphabet and not the other way?"

"Oh, no…I…"

"Think of it. Just give it some time." She stood up and began to pace. "Read that. Read his notes and write out the abbreviations for me. He was interested in finding the meaning of each one, but I don't think they have a meaning, not like what he was looking for, some sort of code or something, anything more than... Harry, what if they are all like the one at the Ministry? I want to find the where…the why they were dropped from the alphabet and where the rest of them are. I don't think he was successful because he didn't find out the when…Harry, we have to do this."

"Where are you going with this?"

"I don't know. Harry, listen… I think the original alphabets used the sounds of the rune's name to depict their written language. I think the Ministry doesn't even know what it has. They think it is…like what we thought, a veil…a place…a place of death."

"So…if the arch at the Ministry is really one of the original runes…" He looked up at her confused.

"It's always been there." She returned to her chair and locked her eyes on his. "This is one of the oldest cities on the British Islands, I think it is the oldest, sort of, as least in the Magical world it is, and this would be why. Harry, what if the Arch was not taken to the Ministry, but the Ministry was built there to hide it? What if there are other runes? Real runes, real living runes? Think of all the monoliths that are dotted from one end of these islands to the other. May they were based on something real."

"That still work."

"Yes, and are hidden because of it, or lost to antiquity."

"You really believe this."

"Read the book, I can print another copy, and I have more. Snape's library is chock full of stuff like this. He has a scroll that I can not even start to read…I know, I just know, there is something more."

"It's a long shot."

"No," she chuckled, leaning back in her chair and grinning. "A long shot was an old man putting his trust in a skinny eleven year kid and his two friends."

"Hermione, don't do that. We were lucky."

"We can be again."

"We had help."

"We are all grown up, Harry. We don't need it."

"We… what am I saying…there is no we…there is only you."

"Would you let me go off by my self? I will you know. I can find someone to get me in to Durmstrang. If Snape's notes mean anything, he didn't get that far…I want to fly over it…and I want to see their library. I'll need help to get in there, if I remember correctly it is an all male school."

"And all pureblood."

"So?"

"So you need a pure-blood male to … oh no, not me. Nope." He stood up pushing back his chair with his legs. "I swore to Ginny, to myself, fuck…get Ron to do it."

"Not a chance, you know better. You want to do it. Look at yourself, you know you do," Hermione said, laughing as his face became redder and more flustered.

"Of course I do, that's why you hauled me over here isn't it?"

"Yup." She kept laughing.

"I'll…" He grabbed the copies from the kitchen table and crammed them in his pockets, shrinking down what was left and took those as well. "I'll let you know."

He turned and angrily strode to the door, muttering under his breath.

Harry," she said softly, holding on to the edge of the door before closing it behind him. "You know that even if we find out that the arch is a living rune, that all of these were real and we can pass through them, it won't change anything."

"I know."

"You believe me, right? Harry? I don't want you helping if you don't understand that."

"He smiled at me, when he fell he wasn't dead…he wasn't, Hermione, he…"

"Bellatrix hit him full on, Harry. I saw it, we all did. He couldn't have survived."

"But he fell before he…I know what I saw…what I still see…what I can't get out of my mind."

She shook her head sadly and watched him walk away. "Harry, let me know. I just don't want you to think there is anything we can do, or that what happened can be undone."

**June 2008**

Hermione pulled on a pair of woollen trousers under a Russian style knee- length rubakha, and then layered an ankle length kaftan of simple but expensive brocade over that. Standing in front of the mirror she turned around slowly, craning her neck and studying her reflection in the mirror, looking for any sign of the dreaded 'womanly' attributes that would prohibit her entering Durmstrang. She locked her eyes with the woman in the mirror and sighed, knowing that what she was about to do, could not be taken off and hung in the cupboard when she got back, as the rest of the costume could.

She pulled off the kaftan and rubakha, leaving on just a bra and her trousers, laying them on the foot of her bed and went into kitchen. Digging through the drawers, she finally found the scissors, and without pausing to think, or using a mirror, she began to cut off her hair, using her chin as a guide. Startled when her doorbell rang she threw a towel over her head and opened the door, just enough to cautiously peek around the edge.

"Thank god." She reached out and grabbed Harry by the wrist, yanking him into her flat. "I need help."

"Umm, yeah," Harry grinned and turned his back on her. "You really need to get a girl friend, Mione. You can't keep doing this."

"Oh, sorry," she muttered, covering her bra with the towel instead of her half cut hair. "Okay, it's safe now, you can turn around."

"What the bloody hell…I mean…umm, yeah…nice hair cut."

"Shut up, you need to finish it for me." She turned and walked back into the kitchen, sitting down and waiting for him. "Harry?"

"I don't do hair," he called out to her.

"Fine," she sulked, folding her arms and throwing herself back in the chair. "I have a razor."

"Hermione, I know two spells. One for my cut and one for…someone else. Neither of which would look good on you."

"Do you like this one?" She glared at him.

"No," he said, giving her a lopsided grin. "Okay, mine or Ron's. He wears his longer."

"Yours, only…maybe shorter. I have already mucked it up too much to make it long. Just….just do it."

Harry swallowed hard and preformed the spell, trying not to snicker as her hair began to curl and appear even shorter then the cut. "Umm, you may have wanted to go with the longer one."

"No, this is fine." She ran one hand over the back of her head as she clutched the towel in front of her with the other. "Did you bring your clothes?"

"Yeah, we better get ready," he sniggered looking at curls falling down over her forehead and on the tops of her ears. "Maybe you could just wear one of those head bands like Ginny used to."

"Get dressed, Harry." She waited until he had left the room the pulled the towel around her even tighter and ran back to her room.

"Change in the kitchen," she yelled out. "I'll be a few minutes at the most."

Pouring a crème in her hand she ran it through her hair, flattening and slicking her hair back straight from her face. Satisfied with the results, she picked up a spray and further welded it in place. Then, redressing and lacing up a pair of knee- high dragon boots, she was ready.

"Harry? Is it safe?"

"I am dressed but I don't know how safe we are…wow…is that you?"

"Too much?"

"Do you mind?" Harry waved his wand in front of her, waiting for her nod before changing the brocade to a softer tone, still keeping the green, only muting it and making it duller, more masculine.

"Thanks, I wanted a brown one but this is all I could find…and this was damned hard to come by."

"Let me guess, the museum."

"I am borrowing it. They'll get it back."

"You should have said something, Ginny could have …"

"Ready?" Hermione said, sliding her wand in her waistband after lifting up the kaftan and her blouse. "How the bloody hell do they expect to get to their wands in a hurry?"

"Staffs, remember? And they don't wear the kaftans every day. Do you have one of those …pony tail things?"

"Why, Harry, are you going in drag?" She intoned, then smiled watching him redden.

"Funny," he grinned, pushing up his sleeve. "Ginny's idea, I have two on my forearm, they hold the wand really well."

"Wait here." She hurried to rig up her own wand holder and came back to the sitting room nervously chewing her lip. "Ready. Do I look…un-female enough?"

"You look…yeah, un-female, right." Harry grinned and held out his hand, pulling her next to him and handing her one end of an old teaspoon. "Maybe you should wash off the make up."

"I don't have any on." She looked at him strangely as the familiar tug of port key travel took them away.


	5. The Arctic

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

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**The Chasm**

**Chapter 4**

**The Arctic**

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Harry and Hermione landed hard, nearly falling, and unable to keep their footing on the frozen scree. Hermione grabbed Harry's arm as her feet went out from under her, only to feel a set of strong arms grab her around the waist and haul her up before she finished her slow decent.

"Thanks," she muttered, embarrassed and chagrined that her first appearance in a male dominated environment would be that of a weak female.

"Don't mention it." Hermione heard Ronald's voice and turned in alarm, at first confused and then angry.

"You are going to freeze. It may be June, but up here that just means the lakes may not ice over," he laughed, handing her a heavy ankle-length fur kaftan to go over the lighter weight one she wore, split up the back and open in front. "Turn around."

"Why?"

"Harry, I told you to check on her." He scowled and pulled his wand, slicing an opening in the back of her lightweight kaftan from hem to arse.

"Stop…you idiot. I have to take this back to the museum."

"What for? It's all show, that or they thought it was wrong and tried to repair it. Here," he tossed her a length of rope, "use that to cinch your rubakha, its too long, tie it and then…blouse it up, make it short enough to…Harry." He nodded to two figures that were just materializing ahead of them, and pushed Hermione behind him, hissing at her to hurry and fix her clothes as he shielded her.

"I am Ivan." A stocky wizard dressed as a Cossack stepped forward, nodding curtly. "I take wands."

Ronald handed his over first, stepping back as Harry did the same, and let out a breath of relief when Hermione surrendered hers without question.

"We verify identity." Ivan spun on his heel and walked back to stand next to his travel companion. "You wait."

They spun out of sight, leaving Hermione to scan the horizon. Turning in a complete circle, she could see the horizon in the full 360 degrees. "Where would he think we could go?"

"For that matter, where the bloody hell are we?" Harry questioned.

Ronald laughed and shook his head "You two amaze me. Give you a portkey and off you go with no idea where you'll end up. It's the Putorana Plateau, northern Russia."

"It's north of the Arctic Circle," Hermione whispered. "You've heard of Norilsk? It's to the south."

"Yeah, I've heard of it," Harry clenched his jaw and looked around suspiciously.

"It's mostly closed up now," Ronald shrugged. "I was down there this past winter."

"When?" Hermione tore her eyes form the landscape and studied him, taking in his unshaven face, this rough dirty clothing and scuffed boots.

"Don't worry about it. I went alone," he said flatly. "They found a…a locket…more like a talisman in one of the mines. Strange that, a locket with a chip of bone inside. It was a simple matter really, only…they have this aversion on anything non-Germanic in that hell hole, even when it comes to breaking curses."

"Christians used to carry around pieces of bone that they claimed came form their saints, it may have been something like that. So what are you doing here?" Hermione asked, with an edge to her voice that he recognized well.

"Hermione, he's the one that convinced them to…"

"You told him?" Hermione spun on Harry, levelling him with one of her glares that always made him feel like a guilty twelve- year old.

"No, Luka Ciszekov sent me an invitation when he saw that it was my wife that was requesting a meeting with him. Women are not allowed here, nor are Muggles, he is making this exception because …just try not to blow it."

"And you know him how?" Hermione blew into her hands to warm them and looked around at the surrounding. "It is bloody cold up here."

"Ron has done work for him," Harry said, pulling off his gloves and handing them to her.

"Don't bother," Ronald waved him away. "I bet she has everything we may need for a month tucked in her pockets or hanging around her neck but she would never bring herself a pair of gloves or a …hat. Geesh, now what have you done?" He snorted out a laugh and shook his head.

Hermione's hand flew to her head as her cheeks flushed. "Shut up."

"Wouldn't say a word, I've learned," Ron chuckled as he enlarged a pair of gloves and a square-flat-topped fur hat.

"So, did Harry tell you what we are looking for?" she muttered and tugged the hat over her head until her ears were covered. .

"Yeah, yeah he did," He looked over Hermione's head to where Harry stood. "Don't expect much. They are more distrustful than they were ten years ago. Now they blame us for the last conflict. Voldemort being British, they see us, or rather the British greed, as the cause. They have a habit of rewriting history to suit their needs. Just don't talk about the war. Look, they're here, it's a good sign. First time I waited an hour."

Hermione turned back to see Ivan and his companion riding across the plateau, three horses in tow. They came quickly, far more quickly than Hermione had ever seen horses move, and these seemed to take the scree in stride, surefooted and with no hesitation.

"They're beautiful," she breathed, and silently watched until they pulled up sharply in front of her.

Ivan dismounted, handed her the reins of the smallest of the three horses, and curtly nodded before returning to his own mount. Exhibiting a false confidence, she put her foot in the stirrup and swung up into the saddle, smiling and looking at Ron when she understood why he had put a slit in the back of her kaftan.

"You. Ride." Ivan barked out, looking at her from under heavy brows.

"Is that an order or a question," Hermione muttered, wrapping the reins in her hands, trying to remember her childhood riding lessons, both of them. Lifting her head to Ivan, she saw a hint of a smile on his face and felt her own face break into a grin.

With a sharp whistle, the horses began to move as one, following Ivan across the wasteland, north, further into the cold landscape. They rode for a full hour before the horses changed directions and slowed from their break neck speed, stepping slowly over looser ground than even the frozen scree. Hermione tensed, feeling the horse's reluctance to move forward, and craned her neck to look back over the shoulder at the others.

"Here!" Ivan dismounted and slapped his mount on the rump, watching it run off, followed by the others as each rider joined him on the ground. Walking forward he moved his arm in a arc, high over his head, dropping the concealing ward, and allowing them their first view of Durmstrang.

They suddenly found themselves standing between two rocky outcroppings, the plateau falling away in front, leaving them standing high above the Arctic sea as its waves crashed into the shore hundreds of feet below them. In the distance a castle stood, alone and imposing on a frozen wilderness island.

"Now the scary part," Ronald stood behind Hermione, resting his hands on her shoulders and whispering to her.

"It's breathtaking," she choked, before she turned her head up to look at him.

"Ready?" He grinned at her, as he took her hand, leading her between the boulders and onto the bluff, and kept walking out, over the bluff into the air.

"Ronald!" she gasped, as she saw they were instead walking on a hard earth en path, leading up to the castle. "Wait."

She pushed him back and searched for Harry, running to the end to the path, away form the castle, finding herself in a deep valley, no sign of the cliff or sheer drop off they had just crossed.

"Where is he? How…?"

"This is my third time here," Ronald said, a smile tugging at his lips. "I still get a kick out of it. Don't worry about Harry, he saw something different, it's part of their security system."

"Wh…how …" she spun around confused, and ill at ease at how easily they had been separated. "So this is all a big optical illusion?"

He shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. "This isn't, but the cliff, yeah. I am not sure how every thing here works, it's all for show. This place isn't only un-plottable, I don't think we could find it again if we had the entire Ministry and all its spells behind us. Since the war, it is as if they're on lock down. Wizards could find this place before, but now…they're a little over protective."

"The entry…was it a ruse? This far north there shouldn't be this kind of woodland." She nodded toward the south where the edge of a large expanse of woods stood.

"I don't know," he admitted. "That must be their answer to the Forbidden Forest. I've never thought about it, they must have creatures that need it."

"I want to see the bluff, the…"

"Hermione, there is no bluff."

"Oh, well…the rocks we walked between. The boulders, can I see them for the air?"

"One thing at a time," he said, taking her arm and pulling her toward the castle. "Listen, as much as you are going to dislike this, here you will go by Mrs. Weasley, unless they call you differently just shut up about it."

"Bugger off," she said evenly. "I will…"

"You will do as I say or you will find yourself back up on that plateau. You'll find you do things their way or you are not even asked to leave, you are just gone."

Just then the massive doors to the castle opened, "You. Come."

They were led directly to a room that contained only three beds lined up on one wall. Hermione gave their guide a small nod and politely accepted the accommodations that she knew they had hastily arranged for her. After listening to the directions to the nearest loo, and a warning that she must be escorted by one of her companions at all times, she shut the door and rolled her eyes.

"Now I need help getting to the loo."

"No, you need me to go in and make sure it is empty. Would you rather sleep in one of the dorms and share a common urinal?" Ronald laughed at the look of disgust on her face and the red flush that crawled up her neck. "Trust me, they only have four sleeping rooms, and a couple of hundred snoring comrades is not my idea of a pleasant night's sleep."

"You have to be kidding," Hermione fumed, reading the list of rules the upperclassman had given her before he warded them into their private quarters. "Have you read this?"

She turned to the door that opened as Harry walked in, and then shoved his copy of the rules in his hand, fuming about the injustice of how they treated woman as he tried to get comfortable.

Harry sat of the floor in the corner, pulling his fur wrap closely around him, draping one end over his head. "It is bloody freezing in here. I thought _no fires_ meant no candles."

"Pratt," Hermione sniggered, walking closer to one of the hovering globes of light to read the parchment again. "You have to admit it is safer. Hogwarts is mostly stone, but look at this place. The must have cut down an entire forest to built it."

"And colder," Ronald said. "They claim it toughens them up. After all, _comfort for women_."

"It says here the warming charms will be used only between the hours of …noon and six." She looked at Harry who shrugged his shoulders under his wrap. "Does that mean we do our own or that there is already one in place. Because we either need our wands or they need to learn how to throw a warming spell that works. And read the rest, we are not allowed to talk to students, and we…"

"We won't be here long enough, Hermione, quit. You wanted a broom ride to see the grounds, that's all you're getting," Ronald said tersely.

"That and the library," she mumbled, taking in the rest of the list. "I am not allowed in the halls or common rooms unattended and I'm not to leave the first level at all and remain appropriately dressed at all times. Great, they made rules just for me, I am honoured. What? Do they think I would walk around half naked?"

"Here it comes," Ronald quipped, looking to Harry for support.

"It's an all male school, and you are a female Muggle," Harry said flatly. "They only consented because your husband was insistent."

"Muggle-born," she corrected. "I wanted to see the path we came in on and the library. This just says a broom ride, nothing about the books."

"The outcropping? I thought the same thing," Harry grinned. "It looked like a bloody portal from one of your pictures."

"Do you think…Kanaz? It would fit. A path to knowledge, creativity, harnessing power? Maybe they did have a meaning, it seems fitting here."

"A portal, like the one at the Ministry?" Ronald frowned. "Only…this one you can…"

"What?" Harry looked up, still shivering. "I need my wand."

"… get back from," Ronald finished, turning to study Hermione. "So it is not runes that you are interested in."

"Yes, well…sort of," she mumbled. "So, Harry, how much did you tell him?"

"She thinks the runes…are portals of some sort. There, I told him."

"What? Like on that cheesy telle show?"

"No," Harry laughed. "I let him watch a couple of things on the telle. He used to think every thing he saw was real."

"They have this…this circle, covered with runes…and they line up the markings…"

"You let him watch Stargate? You _are _an idiot," she grinned and shook her head, "you know how he gets. Ignore him. I am sure they all exist, or at least did at one time. That's what we are here to find out. If I can prove it, we will have the key to languages yet to be deciphered. Just think of all the things we can learn."

"How many have you found so far?" Ronald said, flopping on the edge of one of the three beds. "Bloody hell, this is like a rock."

"Two." Hermione pressed her lips together. "Maybe one, we can't be sure about the one that we just passed through, or the one at the Ministry until we examine it."

"So none," Ronald said, feeling his lip twitch. "You haven't changed at all, you know that?"

"Shut up, Ronald. I didn't ask you to come. I didn't even know you were coming, if I had I would have…"

"That's it," Harry struggled to stand, dragging up his coverings with him. "If we plan on getting out of here before we have to sleep on those bloody rocks we better find out what's keeping them. And if you two don't stop I'm going to hex you both."

"Good, do it. Start with her," Ronald said under his breath.

"He can't," Hermione shot back at him. "We still don't have our wands back, and anyway it's arse holes and idiots first."

"Mione, please," Harry said exasperated.

"Sorry, but sometimes he can just get on …" she started, only to stop talking as the door opened.

"We go." A student, dressed in a long fur Kaftan stood, holding two brooms.

"Thank you." Hermione smiled and reached out to take one.

"You ride with husband." He nodded curtly and strode down the hall.

"Great," Hermione muttered. "Come on, Ronald."

The ride was brief, the only thing to see the schools roof and the frozen tundra as far as they could see. Ronald flew in ever-increasing circles until they could make out the shape of the rocky outcropping they had walked past. Hermione tapped his shoulder and leaning forward tried to convince him to lower the broom only to receive a flat refusal and a stern look form Ivan.

They returned to their rooms where a plate of cheese and sausage awaited them, with curt instructions that Hermione would not be allowed in the dinning hall until the evening meal. Harry stepped in front of her and announced that he would gladly stay behind with her, as Ronald smugly grinned and walked off, leaving them alone. She began to complain until she saw Harry's frown, then sat down heavily on the bed and accepted the luncheon offering from him hand.

That night Hermione sat enraptured at the display of sheer power and magic, remembering the show at Hogwarts, she now knew that what she had seen before was only the display of children, not by masters in their art. Resisting the urge to clap her hands, she followed the lead and slammed the side of her fist on the rough tabletop showing her approval when the display ended in an explosion of magic and fiery rain.

"Wonderful," she said, turning to smile at Ivan as Ronald kicked her under the table she turned her smile to an appropriate frown, wanting to kick him back.

"You. Come." Ivan demanded, and strode to the middle of the room that suddenly cleared as the students and Professors moved chairs and tables to the outside walls, then stood forming a circle around them.

Hermione followed him, glancing back at Harry and seeing his nod of encouragement. She caught the staff Ivan tossed to her, surprised at its lightness.

"Training staff," Ivan smirked. "You lift." He used one hand to lift the staff up, placing the base in the palm of the other, suspending the wand horizontally in front of him on his palms, pleased to see Hermione do the same.

"Wand for women," he said flatly. "You fight like woman?"

Hermione glanced back at the table where Harry was resting his face in his hands and Ronald was looking ill.

"I duel the same as all witches and wizards," she said firmly.

"You go Perthro, you fight like man. Duel no good."

"Perthro?" Hermione stumbled on name of the familiar rune, letting the staff back to the ground. "I…I am looking for …"

"In woman is Hagalaz. You fight."

"You can show me? The…the runes."

Ivan studied her face and shook his head slightly, as if not understanding. "Runes for books and magic inside."

Hermione puzzled what he was telling her when he slammed his fist into his chest, then pointed to her. "Hagalaz."

Suddenly understanding she nodded as the realization that they saw the magical properties of the runes as influencing their lives. She, a woman would have the guiding influence of Hagalaz, and the turmoil of war was Perthro.

"The dark one sought but did not find." He nodded at her staff and waited for her to once again lift it before showing her the next move.

"The dark one?" She lifted the staff as she had before; studying his face as his staff swung at her feet and in an instant she was on the floor.

"You try again," he grinned. "I teach."

"Do that again and I hex," she muttered climbing to her feet amidst growing laughter.

"Yes, yes…you hex, like woman." Ivan smiled widely.

He came to stand behind her, reaching around her to guide her hands and body in the proper movements, then again took his position opposite her, nodding to proceed. Not having time to consider what she was doing, she was sitting on the floor before she knew the duel had started. The third time she winced as her backside slammed to the hard wooden floor, but on the fourth she scraped her staff across the floor in a wide swatch, knocking Ivan off his feet before she rolled off her now bruise arse..

"Wanker," she muttered, climbing up slowly.

"Good, good!" Ivan sprang up quickly. "Now, in air."

"What?"

"He is telling you to make the same sweeping movement. Listen. Try to see it as a chess game. This is your space. Don't worry about him, only three meters on each side. That is your space. You own it. You control it. Pretend the space in front of you is the board. See the space as ranks and files, control the diagonals. Don't focus on him, control the space," Ron said into her ear, as he repositioned her hands on the staff, but lowered her arms a little. "Your centre of balance is in your hips, not your shoulders like a man's. You have to adjust your stance. Now, keep the staff level with the floor and control the space. One more thing…don't move your feet or he'll knock them from under you again. He is teaching you to stand and fight, not duel."

She nodded as she felt Ron step back and focused on a point half way between her and Ivan, planting her feet apart and prepared to strike. Ivan's staff had not yet rested in his hand when she dropped her right arm and spun the staff, feeling the centrifugal force add to its momentum, and snapped her wrist at the moment of impact, hitting Ivan squarely on the upper arm.

Using one hand to smack the staff into a half spin, he twisted his body out of the staff's path and aimed for her thigh, hitting his mark and again throwing her to the floor.

"You do good," he said solemnly, reaching down a hand to help her up.

"Yeah, thanks. I think I've had enough for now." She blinked back tears and forced a smile, refusing to let anyone see her cry.

"Wife of Curse Beaker must learn," he scowled, turning to glare at Ronald.

Ronald understood this was not Ivan's personal opinion. This was what was seen here as a gross breech of etiquette, not by Hermione, but by him. Nodding his agreement, he grabbed Hermione's elbow and guided her back to the table. They sat through a number of toasts as the never-empty bottle of vodka refilled their glasses, which Harry silently transfigured to water, earning laughter from Hermione and a frown from Ronald.

"Bloody hell," Ronald tossed his wrap on the foot of one of the beds, adding a warming spell to the room when they finally returned. "The dark one? Voldemort was here?"

"He would have been Riddle back then, only Ivan's not that old. Who do you think he was talking about?" Harry scowled. "What the fuck did that mean? What was he looking for?"

"Dark magic? What would he want with…runes?"

"Not runes," Hermione rolled her eyes. "If Snape was here he could mean him. Only nothing in the notes says he was."

"Okay, whatever you want to call them…portals? And they would have referred to him as a professor or called him Master, like Harry here is the Auror. Titles are important to them. No, they meant Voldemort, I am sure of it."

"Like you were sure of your Stargate movie?" Hermione snorted.

"Why not?"

"Did you hear that muscle-bound git? _Wands are for women_," she spat. "_Do you fight_? Indeed! I thought he knew who we were. I thought he would have known what we've done!"

"You saw them," Harry quipped. "We use wands. Must seem kind-a…weak to them."

"We have all the same spells, Harry. They just show off, they think it gives them an edge. I am going to be sore for a month. I thought that last trick of his was going to split my leg wide open."

"Think about it," Ron said evenly. "He told you that was a training staff. Can you imagine the real thing? And they do use wands. They just prefer the more manly show."

"Gods, I should have stayed down the first time."

"Sit up here," Ronald said, pointing to the bed and tossing her his outer Kaftan. "Cover up and drop your trousers."

"Turn around," she muttered, undoing her belt.

"Bloody hell, it's nothing I haven't seen."

"For the last time," she said tersely, the waited until he and Harry faced the wall to do as Ronald had said.

"Okay," she said once ready, watching Ronald's eyes go directly to the angry red and quickly darkening area on her thigh where Ivan's last blow had landed. "Told you he was showing off."

"Put a machete or blade in his hand and you won't think it is showing off." Ronald sat on the bed studying Hermione's face, then turned his attention to healing her. "Down in the Sudan they still fight that way, at least the older pure bloods do. Not many left, but I tell you…it is awesome."

"They don't use magic?" Hermione hissed at the sudden pain that radiated down her leg as he expelled the wound, returning her leg to normal. "I think we would have heard of that."

"Bill introduced me to a mullah, he…"

"A muslin wizard? The two seems at odds."

"Mullah… umm, master, teacher, learned one…steeped in law…there the magical law of their community." He frowned at her then suddenly brightened. "We celebrate Christmas."

"Good," she tried not to laugh at the look on his face. "When did you meet him?"

"Does it matter?" he said sharply. "All of a sudden you are interested in what I do? If you want to lay on you stomach I'll take a look at…"

"Forget it…" she said quickly, and heard Harry's snort.

"Fine, have fun sitting. Anyway, what did he want?" Ronald stood turning his back on her. "In the hallway, when we were leaving, what did he want?"

Hermione pulled up her woollen trousers and placed her hands on her hips, looking back at him coldly. "He said he could train me. Seems he thinks it is reprehensible of a Curse Breaker that lives in danger not to teach his spouse defence."

Ronald snorted in disgust, and turned to Harry of support. "That's a great idea. Harry?"

"Not now, Ron. Hermione, you said yes?"

"Of course I did," she glanced quickly at Ronald before avoiding his eyes. "He is coming to London at the end of the month anyway. He says his days are free so it seemed like a good idea."

"Brilliant!" Harry grinned. "Remember how Moody could just hit the floor and send ten wizards flying? Awesome."

"Yeah, bloody brilliant," Ron muttered. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"Umm," Hermione mumbled, "I am staying the night. You run along, Harry can stay with me."

"No, I don't think that is a good idea," Harry said softly.

"He said I should see something. See one of the pictures in the library."

"A picture of what?" Ronald spat. "I'm surprised he didn't tell you he had etchings in his room."

"Raidho, he said it's the name of the place an ancient seer came from. He said it was she that told them to build the school here."

"Raidho?" Harry blanched and flopped back down on the bed.

"I know," she grinned. "I felt the same way. What if it is all real, Harry? What if they…"

"No, it just means they have their traditions, like we have ours, it means nothing," Ronald spat.

"That may be," she agreed. "I didn't come all this way to quit, and if I leave without trying to find out what they have here, that's exactly what I will be doing. Anyway, Ivan should be here to collect me as soon as he gets clearance to take me upstairs."

Hermione was not only delighted to see the picture, woven into a tapestry, but could barely hide her excitement that it was hung in the library. Trying to keep her eyes on the faded rendition of the story of Drumstrang, she knew she had failed miserably when Ivan leaned down and used his hand to turn her head back the hanging.

"You look closely," he frowned, pointing to the lower right corner.

Hermione coloured slightly from his stern reprimand and walked to the area he suggested she study, sucking in her breath when she saw what he had meant to show her. She went down on the knees to see the depiction of a circle, not unlike what she had seen on the Plains of Salisbury, only these monoliths in the shape of runes.

"Ivan?" she said his name as a question, looking up at him from her place on the floor.

"One for each place of learning," he frowned, tapping his staff to the likeness of what she had seen at the Ministry. "Yours here."

"And the rest?"

"Lost. France, Brazil, Tibet, many lost." He squatted down next to her and pointed to three of the monoliths that lay on their sides. "These lost to people now gone for all times. It is foolish legend."

"Ivan, do you have any books on the legend. Old books, most likely scrolls, written before your school was built?"

"Children's stories," he frowned, standing up and looking at her suspiciously.

"Yes, yes…I agree…I am…I am putting together a book about the foolishness the ancients thought of our world. Your legends could be invaluable," she lied easily, hoping her face did not give her away. "It should be required reading for all first years. We need to teach them not to put their faith in such nonsense."

He slammed his staff on the floor, illuminating a sparsely filled shelf on one of the cases set against the far wall. "Two hours. Bedtime. I come collect."

She merely nodded as he spun on his heel, leaving her alone. Running to the light, she didn't even take the time to carry the books to a table, but fell on the floor pulling the first of eight tomes into her lap. Cursing the fact that she did not have parchment and quill, she began to read.

The first book she found was old, but well known. The _Prose Edda_ and the following two parts were nothing more then Old Norse tales of afterlife and the worlds of gods. Hesitating as she thought of the twelve gods and twelve goddesses, wondering if there was any correlation to the forty-eight runes, she set the book back on the shelf and reached for the next. Surprised that Durmstrang would have a book about Egyptian burial rights she none the less flipped it open and scanned the index, seeing only the normal chapters she would expect to see in any book of this type. She began to close the cover when her eyes fell on a title that had her quickly flipping to page 208 for the description of forty-two gates the dead had to transverse to be judged by Osiris.

_Strange_, she thought, looking at the remaining books, _that these are considered books for children_. Returning the book on Egypt back to the shelf she only had to glance at two more and return them unopened, knowing stories of fairies and dragons would be a waste of her time. Three tomes covered the history of the school, which she lingered over thinking of The History of Hogwarts and wished she had more time, and then quickly slid them back on the shelf, and grabbed the last and final book. Seeing type set print and a late publishing date the book on runes contained the same information as all texts in Hogwarts, only here they were put in a rhyme to make them easier remembered by children. With a deep sigh, she pushed it back with the others, and picked up the oldest history of Durmstrang.

True to his word, Ivan took her back to the room on the lower level, grimly shaking his head and frowning at her repeated pleas for more time. As soon as he closed the door on her, she hurried to Harry and shook him awake.

"Harry, you should have been there. I didn't have time to look at anything worth while. Harry? Are you…"

"I'm up, I'm up," he grumbled. "Merlin, Mione, do you ever sleep?"

"No, she stays up just to irritate the piss out of me," Ronald's voice called out from under his fur covering. "Bloody hell, I'm still cold."

She pulled off her kaftan and tossed it over the lump that was Ronald with a snort. "Too used to the Sudan I see."

"Okay," Harry yawned, "Make it quick."

"They have a legend that has been passed down for eons. The text I found, sort of a history of Durmstrang, said the stories were handed down orally for centuries before they were first recorded here, and even then were put into the realm of myth. Then, it goes on to say they believed the schools were placed where they were for easy access, for the travel…because the learned ones…could travel between them. "

"It's a fairy tale," Ronald grumbled. "Go to sleep."

Hermione knelt down in front of Harry, holding both of his hands and peering into his face. "Ivan said the gate at the Ministry has always been thought to be the one where the original school sat. Before the founders of Hogwarts were forced out because of the witch hunting. That would explain why it was there…it has always been there. He says legend has it that their own gate was hidden from the Huns and lost when the last of its protectors was slaughtered. They don't know where it is…no, that's not right. They believe it is just a marker…a …like Stone Hedge…nothing."

"And, if you are right, it means we could travel from there, to here."

"Yes, and to other places."

"Mione, it can't be that simple."

"No," she sighed. "There used to be a…not map…more of a set of instructions…a knowledge passed down from oracle to oracle."

"Let me guess," Ron said, pulling the covers off his head and sitting up. "You plan to figure it out."

"Not exactly," she muttered, stood and sat on her bed.

"You plan on going in the one at the Ministry." Harry said flatly.

"Of course, you knew from the beginning I…"

"Fuck," Ronald spat, throwing himself back to his pillow. "I should have known. Now you are going to make him believe Sirius came out on the other side of the world and just never bothered to come home."

"Shut up," she called over her shoulder, turning back to Harry. "Harry, listen. He can't come back. He can't. We saw it, Ronald saw it. He died, Harry."

"Then why would there be a way back from the veil?"

"We don't know that what we saw is a …veil …or the other side…or means crossing over to death…we don't know that at all. What if it is just …a mode of transportation? Or like the Kanaz, just a short cut to somewhere else. That's what the ancients seemed to think anyway, a sort of travel, like a train station, a method of travel."

"Yeah, Harry," Ronald said, knowing Harry wanted this to be about Sirius. "If this stuff is so old, it would have been before apparation, booms, maybe even elf travel."

"That's right Harry. Before even Muggle transportation." She looked back at Ronald and smiled at him for the help in dissuading Harry. "When did man first use horses? They would be older than even that."

"And older than the killing curse," Harry lifted his head and locked his eyes on hers. "He is alive. He is alive and I plan on finding him."

"Where did you get that idea?" she scolded him. "I say transportation and right off you say he is alive."

They stayed up debating what was and what may be until Hermione finally began to yawn, and striping down to her knickers and tee climbed in the middle bed glad that Ronald left his wand on the nightstand with a dim light emitting from the tip as he always did for her. She was almost asleep when a storm broke overhead, thunder shaking the very foundation of the school and blinding light streaming in through the windows as lightening lit the sky.

With a gasp, she sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, trembling as memories flooded over her, a wall falling, the giants footfalls, the crackling of magic that filled the air with dark curses and darker death.

"Mione?" Ronald raised up on one elbow and lifted the edge of the blanket. "Come here."

She all but flew into his bed, allowed him to wrap his arms around her, and cried into his chest. "You're dreaming. It's okay. It's only a storm."

"I think I killed him…I…the hex hit and then…"

"I know. Here." He rolled her over to her side and spooned around her, laying his arm across the waist and pulling her close. "Better?"

"I don't know who he was. He…he wore a mask..and..."

"Shhh, it's over," he said softly, resting his chin on her head as another bolt of lightening lit the room, followed by a long rumbling thunder. "Now sleep."

"Can I stay here?" She tried to look over her shoulder to see his face.

"Sleep," he whispered, feeling her relax and take a deep breath as she wrapped her arms around his and was asleep within moments.

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	6. The Journey Begins

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

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**The Chasm**

**Chapter 5**

**The Journey Begins **

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**June 22, 2008**

Hermione opened the door, almost closing it again when Ronald tried to walk in. Pushing her weight against the inside of the door she looked down at his foot, now wedged between the edge of the door and the frame.

"You aren't going to invite me in?"

"No, to do that I would have to open the door. As you can plainly see, that is not happening."

"You cut your hair again," he said inanely, not able to think of anything else.

"Flattery will not get you in."

"I didn't say I liked it," he grumbled.

"I noticed, I was joking," she said flatly.

"I am going home tomorrow."

Hermione's eyes snapped up to his, she swallowed hard and only nodded. "It was good to see you, Ronald. I am glad you came with us, truly."

"Not glad enough to let me in?"

"No, it's not a good time."

"I see," he said coldly, removing his foot and standing up to his full height. "You have company."

"Yes," she said, chewing her lip and looking back over her shoulder.

He reached forward without thinking and wiped sweat off her brow, remembering how she would perspire, beads of sweat on her forehead, the muscles in her neck taunt, her head pushed back on the pillow as he would lower his head and kiss her while his hand….

"Ronald? I asked you if there anything else you wanted?"

"No," he choked. "I will see you in the fall."

"September, the fifteenth."

"Right."

"You can clear your calendar?"

"I said…yes."

"You've said that before. I need to know for sure. I have to plan the supplies."

"I 'll be there," he answered tersely.

She nodded and closed the door, leaning her head against the cool inside surface, still not accustom to seeing him wind burned and darker from his time in the sun and sand of Africa. She took a deep breath, and not for the first time wondered when he had changed, or if it were she.

"We work," Ivan's voice called out to her.

"I know, I'm coming," she whined, every muscle sore, wondering why she had thought this was such a good idea.

"You, concentrate. You too easy distracted."

"It was the door, I had to answer it."

"Next time you not hear. You see only staff. You hear only sound of battle."

"Ready," she sighed, holding the staff in front of her, hands wrapped over the staff, not holding it in her palms as she had before, but in a more prepared stance.

Ivan's staff moved so quickly she barely had time to counter. Releasing her left hand she rotated her right wrist the way he had shown her, at the same time loosening her grip, allowing the staff to swing up and out in a perfect arc as she fell into a squat, the staff finishing the circle above her head. The only problem with her technique was soon apparent when Ivan's staff thudded into her left side, while she had protected her right.

"Fuck," she winced. "I thought you were…"

"You not think. You do."

"Yes, Grasshopper," she muttered, lifting up her tee and seeing a red angry welt forming.

"You not think, you fight. You see but not watch. You…"

"I know," she sighed. "Listen…I …"

"Listen to staff, to sword, listen how it bites air. It tells where it go."

Hermione again took the beginning stance, determined she could do this. They practiced together that day and the next and the next after that, until she could lock her eyes on his and not look at the staff in his hands, or the tilt of his head, anticipating by the way his eyes flickered which direction his blow would take. She learned that she could hear if he slid his foot forward to slash, or if he stepped cleanly to the side planning to knock her own staff out of the way. Discovering she could see the slight flex where the muscle of his neck disappeared under his collar she soon learned which hand would control the blow, and began to counter his every move. By the end of the week, she thought she had accomplished a lot until he tossed her a rod half the size of the one she had been trying to master.

"This better for you. Size for a woman," he smiled widely. "We do again."

"It's heavier at one end," Hermione mused.

"Next we learn blade. This teach," he said solemnly. "You practice night, I teach mornings."

Hermione copied his two handed grip and planted her feet apart, grinning at the thought of being on sabbatical from work while learning how to fight. She didn't smile for long as the short heavy rod cracked into her shoulder then with a crippling force to her back and sent her sprawling.

"You think," Ivan scowled. "Blade only strikes once not like staff."

"Then why did you hit me twice?" She moaned as she used the sofa to pull herself up.

"Husband should teach," he looked at her questioningly.

"Yeah, well…Listen, Ivan," Hermione said, sitting on the sofa and inspecting her side. "I really do appreciate this, and I hate to mislead you, but Ronald and I are divorced...at least it will be final in a couple of months."

"No," he said, frowning at her and shaking his head. "You fight."

Hermione looked up at him, confused if he meant with the rod or in the future for Ronald. Seeing a dark scowl cover his face, she stood and renewed her stance, not wanting to get into a conversation about her domestic life.

.

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**September 15, 2008**

It was still dark, when Hermione laid out the supplies on the floor, next to the things Harry had dropped off and then upended Ronald's sack, dumping his plethora of items on the floor. She carefully make rows of personal items, team supplies, and what they each thought they may need although none could hazard a guess on how long the trip would take.

Ronald had taken her shopping, picking out clothing that she found disgusting and full of connotations she didn't like. Dragon-skin pants, with straps and buckles holding down a mired of pocket flaps, a jacket made of the same hide, tight and form fitting with no loose fabric to get caught on protruding rocks or branches.

He had scoffed at her boots, yanking them off her feet and explaining the texture of the sole needed to be deeply grooved and rough.

"You almost landed on you arse once. What if no one is there to catch you next time," he had spat at her protests, his eyes laced with concern.

Now, she looked at the other items he had sent and knew he had chosen them with the eyes of a Curse Breaker, just as Harry had made sure they each had and extra wand, a packet of floo powder, and a port key she knew wouldn't work. She frowned, knowing she could never divide and pack away this amount into the pockets and backpacks of only the three of them.

She started with the personal items, tossing the unnecessary bulk to a pile of discarded luxuries. Ron's shaving gear, Harry's deodorant. _Idiots_, she thought. She left enough for them to share, thinking she would come back and reconsider even this. Running her hand over her own short-cropped hair, she was glad at the number of things she no longer needed. She threw everything of her own, save a small comb and toothbrush, into the growing pile of unneeded luxuries. Leaning back on her knees she reached out and tossed the shaving gear away as well. It would do no good to be clean and neat if they starved in the process.

She allowed them each a blanket, but no pillow. Hesitating over the waterproof tarps, she flung two aside, along with towels, allowing them each only one flannel. She pushed aside all reading material, smirking to see Quidditch Monthly in the stack, but paused before getting rid of a survival handbook, at the last minute tossing it up on the sofa. Seeing the evidence that she no longer slept in her bed, she levitated the quilt and pillow she had used and hid them between the sofa and the wall, not wanting to give Ron the satisfaction of knowing she still had trouble sleeping even on non-storm ridden nights.

This would not be a camping trip, warding themselves from view, able to make a stealth trip into town for supplies. They had agreed there would be no tent, no staying in one spot, no waiting. This was to be a fact-finding mission, short and simple. Hermione shoved her digital camera and two memory cards in one of her side pockets, uncertain if they would work, before Harry could see what she was taking. Then smirking, she shrunk one solar charger and a walkie-talkie for each of them, knowing that Harry may understand but Ronald would only laugh.

She piled the extra wands, staffs, and a cache of hooks, ropes and clamps, none of which she understood, together in the middle of the room. These would wait until Ron and Harry arrived to sort through. Done, she looked out the window and judged the time by the sun that was just now coming up. It was time.

She dressed with care after a long shower. Hearing Harry in the sitting room, she opened the door a crack and yelled out for him to put on a pot of tea, suddenly unsure if she had packed everything they would need, or if the tin cups were sturdy enough for the constant transfigurations of size they would go through. .

"I thought Ron would be here already," Harry yelled from the kitchen. "I told him six figuring he would be here by seven."

"No, I thought so too," she said walking out, pulling the last strap through its buckle.

"Wow," Harry ginned.

"Not bad yourself," she smiled back, feeling suddenly stupid. "What the fuck are we doing?"

"Are you changing you mind?"

"Not about that you git," she giggled. "Look at me…I let Ronald pick out my clothes. I've never done that before. Not even when we were together."

"You'll be glad you have those if it is anything like the tundra we were on. You fall on that scree and you feel it," Ron said as he walked into the kitchen, setting down a grocery sack and digging out pastries, and sweets. "What? It's the last time we may get to eat this stuff."

"He's right you know," Hermione pushed him aside and peered into the bag. "Umm…so much to eat so little time."

"I don't think you better eat that," Harry laughed, bumping her hip with his, jockeying for position in front of the bag. "One ounce on those hips and your trousers will split."

"No, she's lost weight. Used to be a lot more…" Ronald lowered the pastry and looked at her sheepishly. "Sorry."

"Thanks, so now you think I was fat?"

"Did I say that? Harry, did I say that?"

"If we are going to make it, you guys have to do better." Harry looked from one to the other, signalling Ronald to apologise.

"What?" Ronald said looking at him strangely, seeing him flaying his arms around. "Blimey, you okay?"

"He is telling you, in a not to subtle way, that you just made an arse…."

"Mione! I did not!" Harry stood up and raked his hands through his hair. "Okay, listen. That's it. It's over. Until we get back don't talk to each other, don't look at each other, bloody hell…I sound like my mother in law."

"Nah, Mum doesn't wear Goth," Ronald snorted, "and she would have said dears. Like, _okay, listen dears_."

Hermione bit her lip and turned away, trying not to laugh.

"Come on you two," Harry said exasperated. "At least try."

"He talks without thinking and it irritates the shite out of me." Hermione admitted.

"Me? You… you don't say a word until you have made one of your famous lists."

"And you just spout off whatever is on the top of your head not caring who you hurt," she shouted back. "You didn't talk to me for over a year now you won't shut up!"

"It wouldn't hurt if it wasn't true," he muttered.

"What? Do you even know how you hurt me?"

"Whatever I said. You know, that you didn't like."

"See, Harry? He doesn't even know."

Harry opened his mouth then closed it, shrugging his shoulders, he looked a Ronald hopelessly. "I… I don't know Ron. I have one at home."

"Don't you start too. If we are doing this we do it now." She picked up her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. "There are two more, filled with food by the front door. Harry, did you bring the potions?"

"Yup." He patted his pockets. "All I could fit."

"Ron, did you get everything on your list? The one I made, not that thing you did."

"Water filter, matches, mosquito netting, umm… yeah, raided mums medicine closet for the rest."

"Netting?" Harry ginned as he lifted his own backpack.

"Mr. Wilderness Weasley's idea," Hermione muttered sarcastically.

"We don't know where we're going. If these things are as old as you say, we may wind up in Africa. It has the oldest civilizations in the world." Ronald hoisted up his pack and easily flipped it over his arm. "You got that Harry? I think I can get some more in this one if it's too…"

"No, I'm fine," Harry readjusted the weight, not wanting to admit how heavy it was. "Hermione?"

"We are a sight, aren't we?" she sniggered, eyeing their attire.

"If we make it down to the Ministry like this we are doing good."Ronald grumbled. "I was reading about these terrorists the Muggles are always on the look out for. I think it's our pictures they are using."

"Ummm, yeah," Hermione checked her boots, making sure they were tied correctly. "I'd like to know why I had to dress in this damned outfit and Mr. Know-it-all wears khaki."

Harry muttered giving Hermione a glare. "You didn't tell him?"

"Tell me what?"

"We are going a different way."

Hermione heard footfalls and opened the door as Ivan strode up.

"Hermione," he nodded curtly, then leaned down and kissed her cheek. "You not go alone."

"She's not. What the bloody hell do you think we are doing here?" Ronald spat. "Why is he here?"

"Mr. Potter," Ivan nodded at Harry and jerked his head towards Ronald. "I have port key to chamber."

He handed Harry a metal disk before turning back to Hermione. "I will be sad if you do not return."

"You and me both," she joked. "I'll be fine."

"You will contact upon returning?" He said quietly.

"She will not, she is…"

"Ronald! Shut. The. Fuck. Up." Harry said, clenching his teeth.

"How did that git get hold of a portkey to the Ministry?"

"Your Minister Shacklebolt is most accommodating." Ivan bowed, turned on his heel, and left the three to look after him.

"How'd he do that?" Ron said, still in awe.

"Sex." Hermione slammed the door closed. "Kingsley and ...his sister have an…arrangement they want to keep out of the press. Don't worry about it, and if you want that stuff on the table, you shrink it and carry it."

"Are you shagging him?"

The room suddenly got quiet as Hermione turned slowly to look at him. Harry rolled his eyes and hurried to stand between them, holding his arms out in front of Ronald as I protecting him. "Now, Hermione, he didn't mean it that way."

"Really? What way did he mean it?"

"You know what I mean."

"Harry, you tell him that if he dares, just once, for any reason, to talk to me like that again, I will, by help me Merlin, rip off his…"

"You don't have to act that way," Ronald shoved down Harry's arm and glowered at her. "Let's get out of here. I want to be done with this, and her."

Ronald saw the extra wands, shoved his up his sleeve and tossed the other two to Harry. Picking up the staff, he snorted and set it down.

"I'll take that," Hermione said. "If it gets heavy I can dump it along the way."

"Right," Ronald spat, watching her shrink the staff and put it in her breast pocket, then turned to inspect the rest of gear. "Nothing we can't transfigure I guess. If we need to climb, I am sure brains over there will have a better way."

"Thought so, wouldn't want to leave any food behind," she muttered, stood next to Harry and took hold of the disk. "Ron?"

As Ronald touched the disk, their transportation began. Hermione was surprised at the suddenness and looking at Ronald saw the same expression on his face.

Moments later, they were in the Chamber, walking up the ramp to the giant stone structure that Hermione now saw clearly as a rune. Stepping up to it, she craned her neck to see the top as she ran her hand gently over the rough hewed surface.

"It has to be a rune," she said reverently. "just think of how old…how truly magical this is."

"So, you think he could still be in there?" Ronald said, his voice matching Hermione's, as he gazed at it.

She spun around and shot Ronald a glare before turning on Harry. "Is that how you convinced him to come? Telling him you can ….you can…save Sirius? I don't believe you did that."

"You don't know we can't," Harry spat. "You act like you are the only one that has a reason to be here."

"Umm, guys…we can't stick around here. The wards are already going off."

"He's right." Harry stood at the entrance of the arch, holding his hand out to Hermione. "It's time. We have to hurry."

She took his hand, looking at the shimmering liquidness inside the veil, shutting her eyes as Ronald stood next to her, encouraging Harry to hurry. They stepped forward together, Hermione clutching Harry's hand, feeling a wash of magic sweep over her as a strong wind seemed to lift her up and toss her further into the void.

She fell to her hands and knees, vomiting on the ground. Spitting out the taste of bile, she looked under her arm, hoping to see the others, too weak to move and fighting to fill her lungs.

"Here," Ronald saw her trying to breathe evenly, and helped her sit, squatted down and handed her a bottle of water he had taken from his pack. "Harry is down too."

"What…what…was that?"

"It felt like a curse, some sort of final safe guard. It was weak though, it let us in. It's old magic."

"Weak?" She asked, then tipped up the bottle and spitting out a mouthful of water.

"I've felt worse," he grinned and swivelled to see Harry getting to his feet. "Hey, Potter, over here."

"Feels like the Hogwarts express just ran through me." He smiled weakly and started toward Ron. "Umm, you two should really move."

Ron laughed and pulled his wand, pointing at the ground and muttered a cleaning spell. Pulling his brows together in a frown, he tried again before standing and offering a hand to Hermione. "Magic is off. Happens sometimes until the curse lifts. Come on, Harry's right…it stinks here."

The three moved to a spot, further down the hill, Ronald looking at the sky, while Hermione pulled against his hand, wanting to examine the ground.

"Bloody hell," Harry whispered. "There it is."

Ronald looked with him to the valley floor that lay below them and the circle of oddly shaped monoliths, each jutting out of the ground at a different angle, each a different hue than the one next to it.

"Move," Hermione whispered, holding camera up to capture the sight.

"Bloody hell," Ronald muttered. "You're nutters."

"It may work here. I want to record it."

"Mione," Harry said softy. "It's not working, try looking at the picture."

She clicked on the view button, and then hit the repeat, frustrated she dropped it to the ground in disgust. "I have to take back proof."

"It is huge," Ron said, staring at the circle.

"Stonehenge would fit in the middle," Hermione said smiling widely. "Come on, I want to go down there."

"Hold on," Harry said turning in a circle, looking at the rest of the site. "Something's off."

"It's the sky," Ronald said evenly. "There isn't a sun. We can't be sure what direction we are going in."

"Or the time, did you wear a watch?" Hermione went down on one knee, plucking a piece of grass. "No roots, look at this. It seemed off before…almost like that Astroturf stuff, but softer, more real…but not… not real at all."

"That's impossible," Harry said, keeling down with her. "Blimey…Ron, come here."

"It's like we are under a bowel," Ronald said in awe. "Every where we look is flat, everything the same…expect down there."

Harry sat back on his heels and pushed his glasses up on his nose, grinning. "Something like the room we just left…just a big empty space and … that."

"Only this time we have …sixteen…" Hermione bit her lip, and scowled. "Why not twelve? Like a clock…or a calendar. Sixteen is…odd."

"I thought there were forty-eight, with the new ones I mean."

"I don't know, Harry," Hermione grabbed Ron's hand and let him pull her up again. "I hoped to find all of them, you know, the number of runes we know about now. But this…this doesn't seem right…some we know…but they are mixed with the new ones."

"Well, we know two of these." Ron nodded to the circle. "So at least we can get out of here."

"There are three between them," Hermione chewed her lip, and squatted down, drew a circle in the ground, marked off sixteen intervals, like the face of a clock, and frowned.

"So, two down. I sure as bloody hell don't want to go to Durmstrang, and the Ministry will be crawling with Aurors right now…that leaves…"

Hermione looked up at him and grinned. "Go on, that leaves what? There is no way to know which one we want from here and remember what I saw on the tapestry…three of them may not even work."

"That would leave the question…as I was saying…only no one was listening at the time…as to why would Shacklebolt give anyone a portkey to see the veil?"

"What? Ronald you are wandering."

"No, he has a point." Harry turned back to them. "I don't care how hot she is, why would he?"

"Right, it's not like he is trying to get in her knickers, you said yourself. He's already done that. The hunt is over. And the story about the press doesn't cut it, unless she has a record, and I don't think she does, Kingsley wouldn't care who knows," Ron agreed.

"Good." Hermione dusted her hands off. "He does us a favour and you question it?"

"Damned right," Harry shot back at her.

"He has never done anything that we should question," she said, clenching her teeth together. "You should not even ask…"

"I don't believe Hermione Granger thinks we shouldn't question someone," Ronald guffawed.

"He's right, Hermione…think about it."

"Fine…it's not his sister."

"Who isn't?"

"Who do you think, idiot," she muttered, looking every place but at them.

"Kingsley and …and Ivan?" Harry breathed incredulously.

"Yes," she spat.

"Oh," Harry grinned and started to laugh before seeing the look on Hermione's face. "I'm sorry, Mione, I know you thought he was in London for you."

Ronald chuckled, ducking his chin and looking up at Hermione from under his brows. "I love saying this. You've been had."

"I have not. He is a good man, Ronald. He can't help it if Durmstrang is so fucking prejudiced he could lose his position. Kingsley asked me to invite him when he heard we would be there so I made a deal. So shut up about it, Ronald, I don't want to listen to your bull shite." She pressed her lips together and hoisted her backpack higher on her back. "Harry, you identify the monoliths on the print outs. I put them in the outside left side pocket of your backpack. Ron, you try to stay out of the way."

"You blackmailed him?" Harry said incredulously.

"I did not! I…he said if he could ever do something for me all I had to do was ask."

"What are you going to do? Find more ways to irritate the bloody hell out of me?" Ronald said flatly, ignoring Harry's groan. "I don't care if he's gay or not. I would even believe it was you that put him off women, but blackmail?"

"No, Ronald," Hermione said sweetly as she strode down the slope, "I have a long list of things I can do to you I haven't even started on yet, and it is you that should give up women. You are not very good in the sack anyway."

Ronald stopped walking watching her back as she kept going, opening his mouth only to close it again. Harry walked up behind him and slapped him on the back, ginning widely. "It's good to be out again, just the three of us. Like old times. Right?"


	7. The Choice

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

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**The Chasm **

**Chapter 6**

**The Choice**

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They had studied the circle at the bottom of the hill, trying to decide which one to use next. Ronald, having had picked up a small pebbles and thrown them at the monoliths, had informed them two of the sixteen seemed solid. Hermione felt an unusual anxiety, not having prepared for this possibility. She pursed her lips and kept her eyes on what little research material she had available to her, hoping their magic would soon return to enable her to enlarge the bulk of the notebooks she had shrunken. Glad, and thankful, that Ronald did not throw out any more barbs, she took her time, comparing the older known runes to the new, trying to discern a pattern.

"I don't get it," Harry started. "From the Ministry side we could see through it. Well, sort of, but here every thing is solid."

"I know," she sighed and leaned back from the parchments. "I'm sorry guys. I…I don't know what I expected but not this and definitely not a whole circle."

She stood, shoving her notes back in her pocket and hefting up her backpack. "Then let's treat it like a clock and say the two we know are at noon and three, so the next would be at six."

"Don't say it, Ron," Harry warned, sliding his own pack on his back.

"I was just going to say that we should name it."

"Good idea," Hermione laughed nervously. "You can do it as soon as we see what is on the other side."

Entering the portal at the 'six' position single file, Ron then Hermione, followed by Harry, stepped out onto the top of a small hill. The light was hazy, as if a warm rain had just soaked the ground, resulting in a misty fog that rolled in front of them. Turning back, Hermione looked at the monolith, no longer seeing a solid surface, but a shimmering veil that she was able to see through to the empty landscape behind them. Facing forward with Harry and Ron she looked down the gentle slopping pasture and saw a circle of stone monoliths in the distance. Counting quickly she was not surprised when the number reached forty-eight.

"Umm, guys," she called, bringing their attention back to her. "Look at the gate…its transparent. Once we walked through it …it changed."

"Now if we knew if that meant something it would…sorry," Ron said with a grin. "We'll figure it out, right?"

"Well," she said nervously, "Now what?"

"Don't ask me," he said with a loud sigh. "Remember me? I'm just the Sherpa."

Harry looked up at the sky and frowned. "It's…off…like…I don't know…not real. Like what we just left. If all the gates open up on places like this…"

"What did you expect?"Ron snorted.

"I don't know…but not another gate. No one could survive in here," he said softly. "No food, no water."

Hermione started down the slope, anxious to get started. "Come on. We should go through one that we don't know first."

"Right," Ron muttered following behind her. "Why go into one that signifies safety."

"This must be the true entry," Hermione mused. "From here we can travel to the other places. See? The whole forty-eight are here. Maybe the veil isn't a real entry...sort of in the middle."

They walked for what seemed the entire morning, too excited to rest, and too in awe to tire. Hermione pointed out the runes she knew, reciting the common held beliefs of what they signified, but admitted that if these were older then written language it was possible the connotation was added much later and thereby incorrect or meaningless. They passed one water bottle between them as they continued to walk, glancing up at the sky that held the same hazy mist as the land in front of them.

Finally making it to the circle, they all but collapsed on the ground. Hermione didn't pause to relax before she placed the printouts of the runes in the same order that they stood in, pondering their placement. She was determined to find a method to the order, and from it discern which one to enter.

She felt small and insignificant, sitting amongst the strange formations, and stood, walking between them, trying to see if the stonework was the same, if they had been chiselled out with the same tools, by the same hand. Only at Harry's insistence had she agreed to sit down and swallow down another bottle of water, not realizing until she did how tired and thirsty she was.

"Here," Ronald handed her an oatmeal and date breakfast bar. "Found these in the pack."

"It'll do." She pulled her own backpack over and started to unbuckle the straps. "Ron, what time do you think it is?"

"Don't know," he puzzled, then turned and looked up to where they had started. "Must have been a good two hour walk just to reach the pasture…maybe four after that."

"It looked closer."

"Things like this do. Nothing around them to put them to scale. Like…walking to a mountain, you can see it but it can take days."

"That's good. We should have something to go by. If we are in constant daylight we need to remember to eat." She turned back to her backpack, finally pulling out three plastic pouches of pumpkin juice. "Here, we should drink the stuff that won't last first and save the water."

He nodded and took one for Harry as well as his own. "Why is it good?"

"That things are what they look like. I don't like the …sky…the …no sun. At least we know that what we see is real."

"Harry and I are thinking we should get out of here before it gets dark."

"Will it? If there is no sun to set?"

"Yeah, well…we were thinking if it does there may not be a moon, and without magic, it'll be pitch dark. Plus that, we can't use the candles until we get our magic back. We can't enlarge them and as they are now the matches would last longer."

"Look." She pointed to a circle she had made on the ground. "If we think of the old runes as a calendar of sorts, and only the commonly known ones, then count only the blue stones, and we know the arch is missing…but there is an empty space there," she pointed to the far side of the circle, " … twelve… that would put the gate to Durmstrang at the opposite side…See?"

Ronald looked over this shoulder, seeing the monoliths looming ominously around them. "Go on, I am sure you think this means something."

" Okay," she tried to ignore his comment, drawing a line to connect the two gates they knew, then drawing another line, intersecting the first, "if these are spaced by what they do, it is possible that the gates to…to the real world…would be on this line."

"If you are wrong?"

"Then we are right back where we started. I think we should save those two and try one of the others first. They can't be aligned by the sun or the stars like the monoliths we know, there is nothing to align them to."

"Harry?" Ronald called loudly. "Get your arse over here."

"Couldn't find any," Harry yelled as he came jogging towards them.

"Shite," Ronald muttered. "We were looking of footprints, or a path…someway of knowing if these had been used."

"Ground is too hard," Harry panted, collapsing next to them.

Ron tossed him a breakfast bar and pumpkin juice before standing up and studying the monoliths. "This place gives me the creeps. Mione, why the blue stones? Do you think they mean something?"

"No, because it's the only thing I could come up with," she laughed. "Come on guys, if I just said pick one, how would that sound?"

Ronald looked at Harry and saw him shake his head and narrow his eyes, his unsaid comment to shut up.

"Harry? Come see if you can figure anything out."

Hermione showed Harry what she had been working on as he explained what he and Ronald had been hoping to find, both glancing up at Ronald who was still walking, examining the giant stones.

"Ron? Hey, down here," Harry laughed. "Are you with us?"

"So pick one," Ronald levelled his eyes on Hermione. "Come on, we're leaving. It's going to be a guess anyway."

He grabbed his backpack and tossed Harry his own, and pulled Hermione's camera from his pocket and handed it to her. "You left this, it may work later."

"Oh, right." She stood, pulling her wand and tried to blast a small hole in the ground, shook her wand and tried again. "We should bury the empty bottles."

"Leave it," Harry said, "we can take care of it on the way back, this ground it to bloody hard to dig in," Harry offered, sliding his arms through the straps of his backpack.

"This whole place must be warded." Ron shrugged and looked back at Hermione. "Pick one."

"Wait," she said, lifting the camera and trying to snap a picture again. "Shite."

"Must be the battery," Ron shrugged. "Not much good now."

"Great, no point lugging it around," she muttered, tossing it on the ground with the discarded bottles.

"You ready?" Harry asked.

"What if I'm wrong?" She bit her lip looking from one monolith to another and then counting off from the gate to Durmstrang boldly pointed to her choice.

"Then we get to laugh at you. Have you named it yet?" Ronald started cross the stone she had pointed out.

"Just three, the third…I don't know…none of the counting runes are here," she tried to grin. "The trio…you know. Maybe it will be good luck."

"We hope," Harry said, joining them. "How does this one work?"

"I thought I'd look for a set of directions printed on the back," she said sarcastically.

Ron stopped and looked to the top then started around to the side.

"Wait," Harry sprinted over to him, "we should stick together. Hermione, come on." He held out his hand to her.

She nodded and accepted his hand, looking away as she slipped her arm into Ronald's elbow.

"It's like the pillar, at 9 ¾ quarters," she said suddenly. "We walk into it."

"Hope you are right," Ronald tried to grin. "Will hurt like a son-of-a-bitch if you're wrong."

"Could be like the wall into Diagon," Harry said hopefully.

"Right, it is made of magic bricks, and it's spelled." Hermione muttered, pulling them with her to a position that would give them enough walking space to build up some speed.

"One of us should go first. Harry?" Ronald swallowed hard. "That or we could pick one like the last. You know, with a hole to walk into."

"Yeah, let me get whacked." Harry craned his neck to see around the side. "I guess this is as good a place as any."

"Good grief," Hermione pulled her hands from their resting place and strode into the stone, disappearing at once.

"Fuck." Ronald followed her at near a dead run, pushed along by Harry who was close behind.

They jostled into Hermione who was staring at the far side of the gate, trying to sort out where they were. Ronald pulled her into his side, letting out a breath of relief.

"Don't do that again. We should at least go through two at a time."

"Harry," she said, shrugging of the protective arm from around her shoulders, "how many old schools are there? I know France, but that isn't really old, the one in Brazil, but that was built way after the Progtagese colonized it… and we know the yanks are new, I've never really heard of any others, of course we know this isn't Durmstrang and I heard the school in china closed over a hundred years ago."

"Greece, but that's just in the last few years."

"Wherever we are it's in the real world," Ron said from his position on one knee, holding up a clump of grass. "That stuff in we were walking on all day wasn't …wasn't real. With all the moisture, the ground was still hard, the grass …wrong. It seems real here."

"We don't know that, it may be only the entry that isn't real," Hermione looked up at the sky, feeling the sun warm her face.

"We should have brought Neville," Ron said with a sigh, standing up and looking around. "He would know right off where we are."

"It has to be Brazil, how many tropical places could we come out at if you think we are near a school?" Harry tossed out, as if thinking aloud. "We need to try again."

"Hope this works," Ron grumbled.

"It brought us this far," Harry shot back.

"I need the camera," Hermione said, rushing to the monolith. "It will work here, if this is the real world."

She ran, throwing her arms over her face and jumped into the stone leaving Harry and Ron to wait for her.

After a few minutes, Ron sighed loudly and walked toward the monolith. "She never was good at finding things or listening. What part of not going alone didn't she understand?"

Harry grinned and continued examining the flora that surrounded him. "I should take some of these back. Neville would love it…Ron?"

Harry stood and shoved a leaf in his pocket, glancing over his shoulder and feeling uncomfortable staying by himself. Deciding that he should join the others he stepped into the gate, stumbling out and tripping over Ronald.

"She was like this when I came," Ron said, not looking up but wiping blood from Hermione's face. "She's out of it."

"Fuck," Harry spat, kneeling down in front of Ronald, putting Hermione between them, and pulling his wand, holding it loosely in his hand, looking over his shoulder.

"You can put that away," Ron said, nodding to the monolith. "She must have tried to get back to us. Her head took the worse of it but the camera is history."

Harry stood, placed his hand on the gate and felt the blood that still marked the stone. "She must have…we can't go back."

"Harry!" Ronald called, leaned over Hermione, and pushed her shoulder back to the ground. "Not so fast, you've gone and buggered yourself up."

"Ron?" She looked up through a fog, reaching her hand out to cup his face. "What are…"

"Give it time," Ronald closed his eyes and leaned into her hand, enjoying her touch, before removing it and turning his face up to Harry. "We could use a potion here. Got something for swelling?"

"No," Harry said quietly. "You think it's that bad?"

"I'll be fine," Hermione breathed, "just…give me a minute."

"What day is it?" Ronald said staring into her eyes, lifting one of her eyelids and frowning.

"How the fuck do I know," she hissed, slapping his hand away. "Is it midnight yet?"

"She has a point," Harry grinned, feeling the knots in his stomach loosen as she sat up.

"You should stay down," Ron muttered.

"No," she said flatly. "We keep going….just…not that way. It won't let us back in."

"Figured that out all by yourself, hey?"

She narrowed her eyes at Ronald and raised her hand to Harry, letting him pull her to her feet.

"Going to have one hell of a headache," he grinned.

"Yeah, tell me about it," she sighed as her eyes scanned the remaining monoliths. "We should try number four. Gebo, if you want to look for Sirius we should start there," Hermione said flatly. "It's as good as any and the idea of clocks and calendars sure doesn't work."

"Sacrifice…" Harry nodded, grinning at Ronald and walking toward the large X shaped gate.

"You think…"

"No, Ronald, I think he's an idiot but it is the only rune he knows the name of," Hermione said angrily. "Sorry, I really didn't mean to snap. I just…I should have known better."

"How?" Ronald said softly. "Hermione, stop. We are in this together and don't expect you to have all the answers."

She studied his face, surprised that he was not blaming her and felt a rush of gratitude.

"Oh," Ron chuckled. "I'm glad Isa isn't here."

Hermione smiled. "No, I think we could avoid that one. But, Ronald, we know nothing of the others. We need to find something, a … a tablet… some proof of all this."

"Don't you think the Ministry is…?"

"No, don't be a fool. If they sent someone in and they didn't come back, they may have sent someone in after them, but the second time they would have stopped trying. We don't even know… my gods…Harry…no Harry," she screamed and started running, pulling up short, as she saw Harry step into the Monolith. "Ron…we don't know if the others work the same. What if…"

"He can't get back at all?" Ronald picked up his backpack and tossed her one, slinging Harry's over his arms. "Then we better go find him. Fuck, and you were worried about me."

They jogged across the clearing, Ronald reaching his hand to Hermione, glad that she took it without complaints and leaped into the next world.

It was dark, and cold. The landscape was that of rugged mountains, treeless crags and jutting cliffs. The smell of salt water, and cool winds, alerted them to their proximity to the sea. A full moon enabled them to see the ground clearly, and was bright enough that they felt exposed and sought the darker shadows at base of the giant monolith.

The only thing that had alerted them to the fact they were not in the real world was a compete absence of stars, leaving the sky strange and foreboding, directionless and void. Taking turns on watch, only to fall into a fitful sleep, they were awake within a few short hours. Taking turns to walk into the deep brush to relieve themselves, Ronald and Hermione now waited for Harry, anxious to start off again.

"At least we should have a sun here." Ron nodded to the sky where the blackness streaked with deep purple indicating a change of light. "And if what we saw back there holds, there will be another circle."

"We can't even be sure that's…"She spun around, still on the ground, slowly rising to a low crouch. "I hear something…it's not right."

"Shhh," Ron crouched beside her, "Harry?"

"Here," he whispered from deep in the undergrowth. "Wait."

Ron and Hermione crawled backwards, putting their backs to the stone, waiting in silence until they heard him returning.

"Harry?" Hermione stood, peering into the blackness.

Suddenly Ronald yanked her arm and slung her behind him, trapping her between him and the granite face of the monolith. "What do you want?"

Harry had a knife at this throat, his body obscuring his captor, who shoved him roughly forward into the clearing then pulled him to a stop, hissing into his ear. "Where's the rest?"

"Steady," Ron held up a hand, palm out. "Just us. Now, let him go and we can talk."

"What did you bring?" A quick flick of the knife indicated the backpacks and returned to Harry's neck, the blade pushing into the flesh.

"You can have it," Hermione said shakily, "just don't hurt him."

"Dump it," the voice hissed, "be quick."

They upended the backpacks. Hermione unzipped the pockets and unbuckled the clasps not taking her eyes off the knife, nor the small line of blood that appeared where the edge met Harry's skin.

"You can let him go now," Ron said, again pushing Hermione behind him. "You can see …we don't have anything that you need."

Suddenly Harry was released and pushed forward. He stumbled into Ron, gagging and gasping for air as Hermione rushed to him, going down on her knees beside him.

"Who are you?" The dark haired woman asked, waving the knife in the air as if to make a point. "People don't just…wander in…who sent you?"

"No one, we…we came by ourselves. Just to …research. We mean no harm." Hermione slowly reached for a bottle of water and opened it, seeing the woman nod she helped Harry to drink while she inspected his throat.

"We were leaving," Ronald said, looking at the many small knifes the stranger had tied to her leg and belt, knowing in an instant one could come flying through the air. Lowering his arm, he tapped his palm to his jacket cuff, releasing his wand.

"Let it drop," she said coldly, her eyes flicking from Ron to the supplies that lay spilled on the ground and back to Ronald. "Bitch, yes you…is there another? Or does that dark haired one got tits? The matches, toss them to me."

"Anything," Hermione said meekly, crawling over to the matches, grabbed them and flung them, seeing them land by a pair of sandaled feet. "What else?"

"The backpacks," the stranger said, flicking her knife, indicating where she wanted them. "Now move."

She picked up the empty packs and slung them over her shoulder, smirking as the three cowered away from her. "You'll be dead within the week. Idiots! Whoever sent you will have your blood on his hands. So you can go back to your precious Ministry and tell them to stay out of this."

"They didn't…"

"Shut up," she spat. "I would suggest you get the fuck out of here. It's getting dark soon. Unless you know what the fuck is going to happen you better go."

"We need water," Hermione said boldly, pointing to the supplies. "And … there are some smaller things we …"

"You stupid bint, you think your wands will work here? You think all your fine learned magic will do you a damned bit of good here?"

Ronald looked down to Harry, saw him going for his own wand and stepped between him and his former captor. "Why wouldn't it?"

"Bugger off." She turned and spat on the ground, eyeing the supplies again. "That there…give me that."

"Wh…"

"The chocolate. Throw it to me."

"Sure," Harry fisted three bars and flung it toward her.

"What do you call this place?" Hermione hazarded, standing slowly.

"Home." The stranger laughed, squatted down and gathered up the sweets, shoving them in a pouch tied to her belt. "Now go. Take the water…and…leave everything else."

Ronald eyed the shrunken items that lay discarded, swallowing hard he looked back over his shoulder at the monolith. If they left, there was no way back.

"So, you think you know the secret?" He heard her voice milliseconds before she was in his mind, seeking information, ripping through his memories at breakneck speed, then suddenly he was knocked to the ground as Harry tackled him, breaking the connection.

"Fools," she spat, sneering down at the pair on the ground before leveling her knife at Hermione. "You are not even close. Not even. You'll get lost in here and not know it until it's too late. If whoever sent you is so fucking stupid then save yourself and get the hell out if you can."

Ronald strode to Hermione grabbing her elbow and yanking her toward the monolith, taking one more look at the woman they stepped into the gateway. He pulled Hermione aside until Harry was next to them, and only then, fell to the ground holding his head.

"Bloody hell!" he muttered. "Merlin, Harry…it hurt like a bitch."

"Here, it'll help a little. Snape used to do it to me, felt like a hot poker was being pushed into my head." Harry pulled a headache potion from his pocket and handed it to Ron. "Most of the supplies are gone. All we have is what's in our pockets."

"The water," Hermione gasped, "we didn't take it."

"Well, we don't have a choice do we? We can't go back and get it." Ronald sighed, feeling the potion take effect.

"We keep going." Harry said flatly.

"We should go back," Hermione said, ignoring their look of surprise. "Just long enough to put up more supplies. The stuff we have isn't much good shrunken down like they are."

"No," Harry said angrily. "We keep looking. We won't get another chance. You know as soon as we go back our arses will be hung out to dry. I don't care if Kingsley gave us the portkey or not, we won't get another chance."

"He didn't, did he, Hermione?" Ronald said flatly.

"He would have," she muttered. "Okay, so it was Ivan. He made it and…shite, if anyone finds out…"

"Why did he say it was Kingsley?" Ronald said incredulously.

"Because, I told him if you knew it was from him you wouldn't use it and he has some warped idea that since I am your wife I would only be doing this to advance your career."

"She's got you there," Harry grinned.

"Yeah, well…forget the meaning of the runes will ya?" Ron frowned and changed the topic quickly. "Unless we were the ones being sacrificed it was dead wrong."

"If we are right, the meanings were all made eons after the runes were turned into … into…" she sighed loudly and plopped down on the ground. "I have to work something out. I could have misunderstood it."

"What are you thinking?" Ronald lowered down on one knee, studying her face.

"Not now, just…leave me alone while I think."

"Right," he spat angrily, standing up and glowering down at her. "Back to this, hey?"

"What? Ronald, don't start, not now."

"Why is talking to me so hard?" He swallowed hard and walked away, his lips set in a thin straight line.

"You should talk to him, Mione," Harry said quietly as he sat down next to her. "It could be a few days before we get back, you could make this easier."

"I've tried with him, you know I have."

"No, you've always shut him out. Even when we were kids you never really listened to him, not on important stuff."

"That's not fair. I've always listened to him."

"No, you always let him talk. That's quite different."

"He has someone else he can talk with, you know he does. You knew it then and didn't bother to tell me, just let me go on making a fool of myself. "

"No." He frowned at her. "You managed that one on your own."

"I expect you to take his side, everyone else does. Including that wife of yours," she spat. "Just stay out of it."

She gathered up her papers and folded them, quickly shoving them in her pocket and then walked to the closest monolith, declaring it was the next gateway. Hearing Ronald's snort of laughter she turned just in time to see him stride into one on the opposite side of the circle.

"See what I mean?" She turned on Harry. "He doesn't care, he just walks off…he is always doing what he wants and doesn't give a damn about…."

"Not now," Harry said, jumping up and running across the open space. "Bitch later, he's leaving."


	8. The Meeting

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

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**The Chasm**

**Chapter 7**

**The Meeting**

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It was daylight. A fact met by all three with relief. It was not unlike what they had seen before; rolling green slopes, misty in the morning light, rising against a backdrop of mountains. Harry smiled widely, and pointed out a small creek that ran from east to west, as Ronald couldn't keep his eyes of a small flock of sheep. Nudging Harry with his elbow, he nodded toward them explaining that they were an ancient bred and not often seen and never in Britain.

"My gods," Hermione breathed, "look. I have an idea."She pointed a finger to another circle of giant monoliths in the distance and started to run.

"Hermione!" Ronald yelled after her. "Wait!"

"Go after her. I'm going to see if I can transfigure something to carry water in." Harry called over his shoulder as he started to jog to the creek.

"Stupid bint," Ronald cursed, and started after Hermione.

He reached her as she was pulling out her wand and laying it in the palm of her hands, casting the point me spell. He watched the wand, feeling the same disappointment as she when it did not so much as twitch.

"Try something else. Maybe…"

"Ron," she interrupted, "we haven't felt the same sickness that we did the first time we came through the veil at the Ministry. You said that sometimes a curse could block magic, that it would take a while …it's not getting any better."

"I know," he admitted, running his hand through his hair and letting out a sigh. "It has me worried. Not the curse though, that part is simple. The first time I felt it, like I said I was sicker than a dog, but only that once. It gets easier every time you feel it until you won't even notice it. When we get back, I have a couple of journals and a text I'll lend you. It's the lack of magic that has me stumped. I keep trying to cast simple things but nothing works. Maybe we should head back. Without our magic what few supplies we have felt are useless."

"Whatever for? Now that we have water, we should be fine. I was just over reacting. Anyway, that _Amazon_ back there read your mind so there has to be some way to get the wands to work again."

"Close to what? Fuck, we don't even know what we are looking for. And if she could use magic why didn't she use a wand? Why hold a blade to Harry's neck when she could have just binded him? No, Hermione, it was wandless…and I don't put what she did in the same boat with the type of magic we need."

Hermione sat on the ground, pulling out her notes and screwing up her face as she looked to the east and into the sun. "At least we can tell directions here."

"Maybe," he laughed, and joined her on the ground, "if the sun comes up in the east. We can't even be sure of that anymore. Blimey, we don't even know if it is morning here. That could be the west. Ever notice how the time doesn't carry from place to place? It seems hours later, afternoon here but when we left the bitch it was early morning."

"It seems…right here. I want to look around before we go on. We need to find people. Well," she laughed and lay on the ground, "more than people that want to slit our throats."

"That would work," he laughed. "We don't have enough left to buy our way out again."

"Who do you think she was? Do you think she is lost in here as well?"

"I don't think so. She didn't seem interested in finding a way out, just taking stuff." He plucked a blade of grass and put it between his teeth. "She didn't even look for a way when she was in my mind, more like what we were doing here."

"Ron? Do you think…she came here like Sirius? Could she have…died? I mean…I don't know what I mean, but nothing makes sense. Why would she be in here? How? I've searched everywhere I know of, there is nothing…nothing except for a couple of mentions of old myths, the books hidden up in Durmstrang and that scroll at Hogsmeade. Who else would have the same information? Who else knew of this place? There wasn't even anything concrete until we found that tablet, and no one outside of the museum knows about it. The Ministry keeps the damned thing locked up…so I am sure they have no idea what it is."

Ron looked over his shoulder to make sure Harry was still trying to collect water. "He keeps talking about Sirius. You shouldn't have brought him."

She looked to the creek and nodded. "I know. I thought about it later but the damage was already done. I thought after all this time he would have given it up. So, you said you have felt what we did before and it sapped your magic? How long did it last?"

He lay down on his back, his arms folded behind his head and began to tell her about the first time he had encountered what she and Harry had felt. Admitting that he had not only lost his lunch but had been sickened for days, he went on to tell her of the curse he and his brother had been called in on and the length of time they had wasted waiting for their wands to work again .

"You mean the curse you were there to break wasn't the one you walked into?"

"No, not at all. Most of the work we do is on objects that we end up destroying, or we try to dispel the curse to cart the object off to a museum or something. We have run into a few books, even a scroll now and then, but mostly old artefacts, statues and such. Although the worst I have seen is…" he paused and looked at her, wondering how much he should say, "well…on people. Most artefacts have old wards that still work, that's what you felt. A sort of ancient curse. It is meant to rob you of your magic so you can't tamper with whatever it is protecting. They worked for a long time before someone figured out that they just sort of wore off. Bill's working on a time accelerating spell to block the magical residue…you know, speed up the return of magic."

"So…it's possible that the curse we went through is to protect this place? So we can't use our magic against it?"

"It's possible…only…no…it feels…different." He rolled to his side and rose up on one elbow to study her face as he continued the story, trying to explain what he had been working on, and was still involved with. Without thinking, he laid his hand on her stomach and drew lazy circles, concentrating on his memories. He grinned and looked down at her rapt face and sat up suddenly, stopping in mid sentence.

"Sorry about that," he frowned and turned back to the monoliths. "Which one now?"

"Ron?" Hermione sat up, gently putting a hand on his back. "The last time you came home you didn't even tell me you were coming. I only found out after you left."

He swallowed hard, keeping his back to her. "I ... it was a bad time for me. That's when McKenzie caught the curse and we decided to take a couple of days off."

"I am sorry about him. He seemed like a good man."

"He was. I sent you an owl. I…I wanted to see you."

"I don't remember if I even got it…you know how I am at work."

"Yeah," he said flatly. "If Harry can't find a way to carry water we go back."

"Why didn't you wait until I got home? You just left."

"I couldn't." He stood up and brushed off his trousers, putting up his hand to shield his eyes from the sun and watched Harry who was just now walking towards them.

"You had enough time to see her. You could have at least had the decency to tell me you were going for good."

"I needed you," he repeated, dropping his arm and looking at her coldly. "You obviously had other, more important things to do."

She watched him walk to meet harry, feeling her eyes sting. She could hear them talking as they came up behind her. Keeping her head down she trudged along, trying to ignore them.

"This one is next." She stopped and looked up at the strange shape. "I don't get it. This circle is so much smaller. It only has twelve."

"Ron and I have been talking. We think we should spend the night here."

"One more," Hermione sighed. "There has to be someplace that is more than an empty space. We can always come back her for water and Mr. Wilderness here could dress out some mutton of us if we don't find anything else."

"You think we will find something like the Ministry?"

"Or a temple, a…somewhere where people live. Don't look at me like that. If one person is in here there could be more. I want to find somewhere with an explanation of all this. It can't just be place after place of empty space, or like the one with the bitch. I want to know why she is in here…what is she doing here? How did she know about this? Or did she fall in like Sirius? And if she did…where? When?"

Ron sighed loudly, "If we wind up someplace without water we could be in trouble. Harry's wand is still off as well. We can't take any with us."

"Then we keep going. Maybe we will be lucky and step into the real world. After all, we don't know what these mean. You said yourself that we shouldn't count on the meanings."

"Mione, we haven't looked around. We should spend a day or two here if we aren't going back. Even if there are people around, they may not be right near the entry. Like in Salisbury, it's out in the middle of no where." Harry offered.

"Fine," she turned and glared at him. "We have no food, we can't carry water, and you what to go on a trek. Do I have it right?"

"We are Merlin only knows where, looking for a tablet…wait for it…written before the beginning of language and **you** are asking _**me**_…if _**I**_ have it right?" Harry said angrily.

"You don't think I am going to ask him do you?" She pointed her finger at Ronald.

"Bloody hell," Ronald said exasperated. "I didn't even say anything this time and she bitches at me."

"Shut up!" They both turned on him at once.

"If you ever wonder why I left you two the last time we went off, just remember this conversation," Ronald grumbled.

"Fuck off," Hermione spat.

"You want to fuck? I suggest you look up that Frank bloke you are always going on about."

"Shut up," she raged, slapping his face and then pushing against his shoulders, shoving him back.

"My gods," Harry blanched, looking from one to the other, his hand going to his forehead as he took short shallow breaths. "We have to leave. It's this place. We have to get out."

Ron looked at him, his teeth clenched in anger. "What now? Did you have another insight? The Great Harry Potter is going to save this world too? Take this cat with you when you leave. I can find another."

"Ron, when was the last time you lost your temper? We leave now. I'll explain later."

"Great," Ronald spat as he yanked Hermione's arm into a vice like grip and pulled her roughly toward the monolith. He shoved her forcibly into it and then turned to Harry, flexing his fists. "After you."

Spilling onto the ground, Hermione scrambled to her knees, wincing at what she knew would be bruises on her arms, and turned to watch Ron and Harry step through. When they finally did, she noticed Ron's lip and knuckles bleeding while Harry stood flexing his fist.

"You hit him?" She jumped up and ran to Ron, pulling his head down and examining her mouth. "Open up…okay, at least your teeth are all there. Harry, what in bloody hell did you do?"

"Him? It was you that split open my lip," Ronald said, flinching when she touched his mouth.

"I … sorry." Harry swallowed hard and looked at Ronald sheepishly, all anger gone from his face.

"Right," Ron sniggered, working his jaw as he felt it for damage. "Bloody hell, what happened back there?"

"You're the spell breaker, figure it out," Hermione muttered, turning her attention to Harry. "So what about you? Did he …"

"We would have killed each other back there," Harry said, looking at Ron guiltily. "If my wand had worked…."

"We avoid that place on the way back. Should have known when she talked to me," Ron tried to joke. "That or we can break the wands just in case and tie Hermione's hands. I swear she hits harder than you do. I know she has a better aim."

Hermione turned away from him guiltily, pulled out the rune symbolising the place they had just left and drew an X through it making a notation at the bottom of the picture. "Ron? Could you break the curse if we have to go back? I mean…have you ever run into something like that before?"

"Your hand or the place?" He started to laugh only to sober at the expression that came over her face. "Not that strong, and...no…no, nothing like this. Confusion curses, ones that make you want to leave, even change your perspective, seeing something dark and evil as something beautiful. Merlin, Mione, if I'd had a wand that worked, or if Harry did, we would have thrown the killing curse. And if you gotten in the way we both would have hexed you. Even if I tried to break it I would need a wand, and I couldn't promise to I could get it done before it took me over again."

"Maybe we should put the wands someplace they are harder to get to," she offered, still avoiding Ronald's face as she felt the sting of tears. "You know, just in case the magic comes back. Ron, pull your trousers down."

"My what?" he asked incredulously.

"Your trousers. Drop them," she said flatly, undoing her belt, glaring at Harry. "And you stop. This isn't funny."

She tugged her belt out of the loops and raised an eyebrow at Ronald, who meekly undid his own and lowered his trousers to his ankles, swallowing hard and looking at the sheepishly. "You laugh and you have to show Harry yours."

"Wouldn't think of it," she said seriously, as she dropped on her knees hearing Harry snort. "Doesn't everyone wear boxers with little red dragons playing Quidditch? Harry, you have a pair just like them I bet."

"Mum gave them…what are you doing?" Ron asked, looking down at her.

"Give me your wands, you too Harry. All of them," She wrapped her belt around Ronald's thigh twice, cinching it and pulling it tight then shoved her wand between the belt and the outside of Ron's leg. "Now, put your own belt on backwards, that'll slow you down."

Ron did as she asked, meekly looking up at Harry. "Listen, it that happens again…"

"When you look at me funny and start groping yourself I'll…"

"Oh come on. It's just in case. The damned wands don't even work, but I want to make sure." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Our backpacks are gone. We can get to our sleeves, pockets, everywhere! If you can think of something else, do it."

"It's fine," Ron assured her. "I just keep thinking about Moody. Wouldn't want to accidently hex off my…yeah, never mind."

Hermione looked around, turning to see a place that looked like the one they had just left. "Now what?"

"It looks identical."

"Not quite," Ron said pointing to the flock of sheep that grazed on the slope. "Half as many here and I don't feel different. Fuck, I should have known what was happening, should have figured it out when Hermione decided to talk to me with out complaining. It wasn't just the anger…it magnified what ever we felt."

"My gods, Harry, look," Hermione whispered, pointing to the horizon where a thin stream of white smoke rose over the furthest ridge.

"Listen, don't go off on me, but we can't make it today," Ron said, standing next to her. "It is farther than it looks. We will go on for a while before making camp."

"Since we have nothing left to make camp with…"

"It's not my fault, you are the one that …"

"Cut it out," Harry rolled his eyes and started walking without them.

They spent the rest of the day walking, once seeing the smoke stop only to start again in what seemed a few hours. Checking the sun and its distance from the horizon, they decided to stop for the night. Hermione flopped on the ground, tired and sore from the knee-high boots, pulling them off and falling flat on her back.

"These are hot," she said rubbing her legs. "Think I have a blister on the back of my leg of all places."

Ron looked at her and ginned. "Let me see. I have Mum's medicine cupboard shoved in my pockets."

"How small?"

He help up a roll of gauze and shrugged, kneeling down at her feet. "Not much good for anything large but good enough for a blister."

She sat up and watched as he pulled off her socks and pushed up her pant leg. Pointing to the sore spot on the back of her calf he laughed and told her to roll over and began to wrap the soft fabric around her leg.

"You should have said something before." He frowned and pushed up the other trouser leg. "That one should be okay, let me check those boots."

He flopped down beside her and examined her boots, working the dragon skin between his hands in an effort to soften it. Ripping off the decorative band around the top, he placed them back on the ground.

"The stitching in the seam is too rough, happens sometimes if it's not cured right. The edges dry."

"I wanted to tell you I didn't mean what I said back there."

"It was the place," he said, glancing up at her, "we all felt it."

"That doesn't mean I shouldn't tell you I was out of line."

"Accepted," he grinned.

"And?"

"Thank you?"

"Git."

"I 'm sorry too," he smirked. "No matter how bad we feel about each other, I've never wanted to hurt you. Well, maybe once."

She started to laugh then rolled over and sat up, reaching for her boots. "Really? When was that?"

"It doesn't matter anymore. Leave them off awhile. I'll go see what Harry is up to. We've been at this a long time, you need to rest."

She felt her smile freeze on her face as she watched him walk away. It was the first time he had made such an admission and she wished she could chalk it up to the place they had just left, but knew he had spoken in all seriousness.

That night Hermione gathered an arm full of the grass and tried to make a pillow out of it. Unable to get comfortable and clear her mind she fell into to a fitful sleep. She dreamt Ron had spooned into her back, lifted her head and slid his arm under her, pulling her into his chest while cushioning her head. She burrowed down deeper into his arms, inhaling his smell, at last putting her dreams behind her and fell deeply asleep.

She woke as he was in the process of removing his arm and groggily rolled to her back, "What? I thought I …"

"It's okay," he said, squatting down and pulling grass from her hair. "I think I like it short it doesn't get in my nose."

"What? Who told you…?" she gasped looking at the matted grass and realizing it had not been a dream.

"You never did sleep well by yourself and it was bloody cold," he said seriously. "Still having nightmares?"

"Sometimes," she said, studying his face, surprised to see true concern and not laughter. "It's been worse this past year or so. I think it's the whole dredging it back up. You know, the tenth anniversary and everything."

"Are you sure that's all? You did the same thing at Durmstrang."

"Of course it is." She pushed him back and stood up, brushing off her trousers and running her fingers through her hair, pushing it back from her face and looking for Harry. "I need to find a rock."

"The loo, madam, is behind that bush." Harry stood and made a formal bow.

"Thanks," she grumbled as she started in the direction he had indicated.

They walked until noon, all up hill and much harder going than the day before, before reaching the top of the ridge. The Valley below them held a single dwelling, an oblong thatched hut with smoke curling out of the middle of the roof. A small pen was attached to the back of the house, and although it was empty, it appeared to be for livestock. Hermione let her eyes sweep over the rest of the clearing and saw a drop loom, churns and piles of dried peat.

"It's like a picture out of a history book," Hermione whispered.

"Like on the telle?" Ron grinned, then saw her turn and glare at him. "Hey, it's the Muggles that make up this crap."

"Come on," Hermione sighed. "I don't see anyone. I hope they don't think we are like that harpy we ran into."

"Only one of us should go." Ronald kicked the dirt with his toe, and looked down at the smoke curling out of the middle of the hut's thatched roof. "She's right, we may not be welcome. Harry, you look knackered. I'll do it, just keep an eye on Hermione for me."

"No, I'll go." Harry squatted down and began to empty his pockets, setting the potions and shrunken supplies on the ground as well as his extra wand. Looking up at Hermione, he grinned sheepishly. "No point loosing it all. If our magic comes back we can save some of it."

"I don't like this, Harry," she whispered. "We should stick together."

"No, Ron's got a point. We shouldn't risk it." He turned back and nodded to Ron, then started down toward the hut, and ending almost an hour later in a small clearing of packed earth in an eerily quiet place.

"Hello!" he called, feeling alone and unsure.

He saw the flap at the doorway move, and stepped back, looking out of the corner of his eye for shelter if things went poorly. "I mean no harm."

A rough calloused hand pushed the flap open, revealing a man dressed in a tunic, a red-haired woman peeking fearfully over his shoulder, trying to pull him back into the darkness of the hut.

"I am here with two friends," Harry said, pointing back to the way he had come. "We could use some water."

The man looked up to the slope Harry had just indicated as the woman whispered into his ear. He gently pushed her back and closed the flap behind him, stepping out into the sun.

"If we could ask you some questions…about this place…or…"

The bearded man looked at Harry, his mouth opening, then closing again before he managed to speak. "Harry?"

"Sirius!" Harry stated the obvious, seeing his godfathers look of shock turn to a wide smile and his arms open. Harry rushed to him, throwing himself against his chest as they hugged each other, fighting back tears.

"Harry, Harry," Sirius choked, "I have thought of you so often. I didn't know if you made it out of the chamber. What are you doing here? Don't tell me you…"

"No, we came on purpose...I…I…yeah," Harry sobbed into his godfather's neck. "I knew it! I knew I could find you!"

"I don't know where to start," Sirius said laughing through his tears. "I stopped hoping to see anyone ever again. Now…here you are."

Harry released Sirius and stepped back to study his face. "You look good. A full beard? That's going to take some getting used to, but you look good."

"And you. Oh, Harry, you have no idea how good you look. You look more like your father than you know." Sirius cupped Harry's unshaved face in his hands, only to pull him into another hug. "Harry, the others? Did they make it? I should have taken you out of there instead of duelling. I should have made sure…"

"No, no we all made it. It's okay. Hermione and Ron are here with me, and Neville and Luna are fine. You were the…we thought you had died."

"The youngest Weasley? She made it out as well?"

"Yeah," Harry ginned. "She is home with the kids. I married her."

"Good for you," Sirius laughed and pulled him back into his embrace. "Don't ever let her go. Hold on to what you have, it can be gone so quickly. We'll just have to make sure you can get out of here."

"Who is she?" Harry ginned seeing Sirius look back to the woman who was peeking out of the door and run his hand through his hair. "Come on, introduce us."

"No." He tugged Harry's arm, holding him back, and shook his head. "You'll just scare her. Leave her be for a while. Harry, my gods, Harry. You have no idea how good it is to see someone. Even in Azkaban, I had people around me and hope that one day I would get out. But this place, Harry, this place …I thought I would die here."

"We came to take you home." Harry's eyes filled with tears as he saw Sirius wipe his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Go get Hermione and Ron," Sirius choked, "Let me talk to Mara before they get here. She is terrified that you are here to burn us out."

"Sure," Harry grinned widely before turning and started back up the slope at a full run.

.

.

She had known the night before that strangers had entered her valley. Had known it by the way the birds called out a warning, by the way the bleating of the sheep took on a shriller note. He had scoffed at her and told her she was being foolish and had chided her for hiding Wilhelm and Nada in the root cellar.

She had known he had entered in the same way eight years earlier as she had known these others came now. That time, the time Sirius had come, she had sought and found him, not waiting for a stranger to find her with bows and arrows that carried fire. She had found him, as he lay at the base of the stone, his breathing shallow, and his pulse weak, closer to death than life. Afraid to move him, she had gathered tall grass and study reeds, made a shelter from the sun and had waited. She had sat and watched him fight for life, then thinking he may yet live she had treated his cuts and set his broken arm. For two more days she waited, until she saw his eyes flutter and heard his groan.

Pouring fresh water mixed with herbs down his throat, she had nursed him back to health while she prayed to her gods to make her forgive strange men and their stranger ways. Once he was strong enough to stand, she had tried to make him understand that he should leave. He had laughed at her, shook his head and began to teach her his language. Now, she heard him call to her in the strange tongue of his people.

"Mara? Where are you woman?"

"Are they of the men in ships?" she whispered, peeking out between the flap and the doorframe.

"Mara," he laughed, opening his arms to her. "No, it is Harry. I told you of him. He is here. He …he found me."

"He will take you?" She questioned then seeing his nod ran into his open arms.

"Yes, at least with help there's a chance this time," he said smiling into her hair, "gods, it is over."

"The children will be scared. You must talk to them of these strangers before you take them," she said quietly.

"I know." He held her at arms length and tried to smile. "We will find a way. I told you, once I am home I will…"

She put her hand over his mouth and shook her head. "I will put meat in the fire. Your people will hunger and then I will ready the children."

"We will talk later," he grinned, picking her up and spinning her around. "My godson is here! He is here!"

Sirius anxiously waited for Harry to return, all the while telling Mara about Harry and his parents, not noticing the look of confusion on her face when he tried to tell her of Voldemort and Lilly and James murder.

"His own people? Was he of the men in the ships?"

Sirius laughed at her and shook his head. "No, it is different in the outer world. Wizards vie for power and….no, Mara. It is over. It will be quite safe for the children now."

He watched her storm out of the dwelling, not understanding her fear only impatient for the visitors to return. Seeing them coming down the pasture he grinned and ran to meet them. Giving both Hermione and Ronald bear hugs he urged them to follow him, feeling happier than he had if years.

"You've lived here since you fell into the veil?" Harry ducked under the lentil and entered the hut in front of Sirius.

"Yes, Harry, well after a fair amount of hunting around," Sirius said, not taking his eyes off the young man, "my goodness it is good to see you. All of you, come in, come in."

Hermione stopped just inside the door, taking in the dirt floor, the lack of furniture and a large fire pit in the middle of the room. Seeing a movement from further into the dark cramped quarters she snapped her head toward the far corner.

The woman stepped into view and nodded, nervously watching the door until they were all inside, then hurried to them, picking up a bowl of herbs, and holding it up to them, her hands shaking. Sirius took a handful of the offerings and threw them in the fire, asking the others to do the same.

"It is one of her customs," he said dismissively. "Mara, why don't you brew some of that stuff you pass off as tea."

"I would love a cuppa," Ronald grinned and sat on the floor in front of a rough-hewn slab of stone that lay on the floor and used as a table

"It is not exactly what you hope for," Sirius said quietly, lowering his head and leaning over the table to whisper. "Tasted like shite at first but if it's all you have you make do. That and Mara is quite proud of it. I made the mistake of describing tea to her and this is what she came up with."

"Where are the kids?" Harry smiled widely, jerking his head toward a homemade doll and a stick horse near the wall. "I have three of my own now, wait until you see Lily, she is the only girl."

"Mara? I told you to bring them in." Sirius spun around to look at her. "It is okay. They won't hurt them."

She turned in horror, looking at the Sirius and shaking her head. "No, they are dirty."

"Dirty?" Ronald said laughing. "It's fine. All kids get dirty."

"She means you," Sirius said, throwing his head back and laughing. "She thinks you will make them sick. There is a hot spring I can show you while she finishes tea. She won't let the children in until you bathe. Even I have to stop there on my way home from a walk about, it's nothing personal."

"You are kidding," Harry said incredulously.

"No, and don't even try to get one of the kids out once it is dark. She says the night air carries the fever. Anyway, there is a different place for you, Hermione. It is a custom to her that woman cleanse themselves after…well…each monthly as well as after sex. She won't understand if you bathe in the same place."

"That was common in a lot of the old religions," Hermione stammered. "Some still do, more for…rituals sake."

"Just go along with it." He jerked his head toward Mara and shrugged. "It's easier."

"Our magic is off." Harry stood, ready to bathe at once. "Could you Scourgify our clothes? I am afraid we were relieved of ours along the way."

"I have extras, Mara keeps me in enough tunics to last a lifetime," he laughed at Ron's expression. "She has some dried herbs and grass that she will rub the leather with. It works."

"Your magic is gone as well?" Hermione questioned.

"Yes, but other's have it so it must not be the magic." Suddenly his face brightened and he ran to the sleeping area, retuning with an odd looking wand made from twisted grasses. "Watch." He pointed it at the floor and managed to create a burst of sparks. "The only wood here is what washes up on the shore and I couldn't get a core into it…course this isn't working either."

"Great," Harry grinned, "if I need you to light the way to the loo I'll let you know."

Sirius tossed it on the table with a scowling. "I tried Harry, I tried to get back. I got lost in here. It's not as easy to get out as it is to get in. I hope we can make it. Maybe together there's a chance."

"Does Mara…is she a witch?" Hermione asked.

"She doesn't understand that," Sirius lowered his voice and watched Mara as she knelt in front of the fire. "To her…what she does…is normal. She thinks something happened that made me different. Perhaps my injuries or my soul. Her magic is…old. She makes things happen without incantations, without spells or wands…just by expecting something to happen. To her magic is part of her and she doesn't think of it the way we do."

"I've seen a Mullah like that," Ronald said. "When he walks if there is something in his way it just…moves…I don't think he is even aware he is doing it."

"The kids can do the same thing. No teaching, just…what they need. I've seen them climb in bed and the blankets cover them without them so much as looking at them. It's strange, but I think it is old magic. Magic as it was before it was diluted with non magical blood."

"What?" Hermione said, sounding shocked. "Don't tell me you have fallen into pure-blood thinking."

"I've had years to think about things, Hermione. If you haven't seen what I have there is no way to explain it. What Mara has is pure magic. She doesn't think about it, doesn't need to practice or be taught spells. Even in a situation she has never been is she can perform what we would need a spell for."

"There has to be an explanation for it," Hermione said thoughtfully.

"We can look it up when we get back," Harry cut it. "First we have to figure a way to get home."

"We need to make a plan," Ronald said thoughtfully. "I don't want to run into that female Rambo on the way back."

"Rambo?"

"Muggle movies," Hermione said flatly. "We encountered a very upset unwelcoming committee of one."

"She wanted our supplies and was quite willing to slit our throats to take them."

"The Banshees?" Sirius said scowling. "Those blood suckers would as soon kill you as look at you."

"Banshees?"

"That's what I call them. Don't think I ever heard what they called themselves. Ugly, foul smelling, the screeching noise…you didn't see them?"

"No," Ronald said, worried about the return trip. "One place like this, only it's cursed. We almost killed each other, and one with a bitch that took our supplies and almost slit Harry's throat. Other then the …reception room just off the Ministry that's it."

"Wet, swampy place? Did you go there?"

"No, rocky like…in the mountains, high up, a few trees, and dark."

"Come," Mara called from the doorway, holding a clean tunic and looking at Hermione in disgust. "We go now."

"Go," Sirius stood shooing them off. "Clean up while I tell the kids you won't eat them. Mara has been filling their heads with old tales and strange ideas. Only in this place, I am sure there are things that would eat them. We can talk about this later."


	9. Interlude

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

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**The Chasm**

**Interlude **

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She had wished to die when the baby had slid out of her womb, never to draw a breath, never to see the sun come up over the land and touch the sea before dipping back to the other world. She had wanted to blame the gods and had raged in anger, wanting to shake her fist and strike out. Instead, she had knelt on the shore. Bathed in the icy water, and accepted his will, surrendering her own as she did each month in her cleansing ritual. It was hard, hard to accept that this place was not what the gods had promised to her people since the beginning. Harder still to accept His punishment without anger and to accept what had happened.

It confused her, the non-changing days, the temperate nights, each blending with those that had gone before. Her village had already salted the fish that would feed them through the harsh winter, that here never came. The elders had counted out the rations for each dwelling, fatty meats, and vegetables taken from the earth, to ensure their health until the wheat was harvested again and the wild berries that grew on the lower slopes once more ripened.

Here, she dug wild parsnip and learned to dry and twist the tall grasses into hard knots to feed into the fire to roast them year round. Drying more grass, she wove long ropes and twisted it back in loops, fashioning a net to dip into the creek to catch the speckled fish. She rose early each day to search the valley, wanting to find more of her people only to return each night, lonelier than she had been before. Each night she played her end of times over in her mind, seeking what must have been an error in her ways, an unknown slight she had given the gods, a sin she had unknowingly committed.

Bitter herbs grew east of the forest. Using twine, spun from the same coarse grasses, she took cuttings, tied them together with her twine and hung them to dry. When they were ready, she built a fire and threw in a handful of the fragrant bled, knelt, and pulled the heady smelling smoke into her face with her hands, offering to the gods and chanting the prayers she had learned as a child.

She had found it difficult and disconcerting to see the moon each night, always in the same stage, always waning. Unable to use it to tell the passing of time she had marked her cycles in the ground, counting off each until she realized the passage of time was her life slipping away, as empty and as unused as her womb. Scrubbing the evidence of her years away with her bare foot, she had turned and climbed the ridge, falling to her knees and letting the salt of her tears soak into the ground.

Each time she ventured away from her valley she would go farther, often spending the night laying in the sweet grass and waking to the same sun and same day as the one before. There was no need to draw a map, or to mark out paths to find her way. So well did she know her valley, that its very smell could lead her safely back.

One day she found a peat bog, where none had been before, and cut into the soft earth, pushing it onto the harder ground to dry. Her hands rough and coarse from working the grass into hard knots for the fire could finally rest. However, it was the day she had ventured over the southern slope that made her catch her breath and drop to her knees in awe, that she finally had hope.

She clamoured to her feet, steadied her breathing and began to run, not minding the pebbles that littered the ground and cut into her feet. She ran until she was breathless and then fell, not yet reaching the sixteen pillars that formed a circle at the base of the last mountain.

Sitting with her legs crossed she leaned down and watched as the cuts on her feet healed, the skin now smooth and brown as it had been in the morning. It always amazed her at how quickly it happened, how quickly and completely she healed with no need of potions or special dressings. She no longer worried when she climbed over rocky boulders to set her fishing nets in the sea. She no longer concerned herself about stepping from one moss covered stone to the next, knowing it did not matter if she slipped and fell.

She had fallen many times, and each time could feel the mending begin before she stood up to inspect for damage. Now, she looked out at the monoliths and knew it was because the gods had blessed this quiet valley, and her sin, was in not believing and becoming impatient with Him.

After each of her monthly cleansings, she started to offer prayers that she would not be forgotten, with no man and childless, seeing the circle at the base of the mountain as her salvation. She took bitter herbs mixed with yellow flowers, laid them at the base of the stone gods, offered her prayers and waited until the sun left, and the waning moon appeared.

She awoke one morning, startled to hear the sound of the bleating of a lamb. As she watched, a ewe joined it, stepping out of the dark stone in search of its babe. The lamb turned and pushed its nose into the ewe's soft underbelly, seeking a teat and sucking greedily. The ewe, lowered her head to nuzzle the soft coat of its young, then lifted its head and sniffed the air, crying shrilly at the danger she perceived, and turning, swiftly ran down the slope, the lamb following at her heels.

She clapped in delight, laughing at the once familiar sight, already thinking how she could fashion bobbin-weights for spinning and weave the cloth as she thanked the misshapen image of the new god for sending them to her. She searched the shores and found a round flat stone, and another one with a sharp edge. Night after night, she scratched until she had a hole through the centre of what she would use as a weight that would hold the fibbers, spinning them ever thinner as she allowed it to fall and take the wool with it.

Gathering the loose clumps of hair from the ground, she spun and wove the cloth. Passing her days, she forgot to be lonely, forgot how to use her voice, and forgot to miss the world that had been her's before.

After a time, a time she could no longer count, she stopped going to see the gods. She no longer pulled the grass from around their bases, and no longer sat and watched; imagining that more than the lamb would be sent to her. At times she could forget that her gods stood at the base of the mountain until she saw a bird that had not been there before, of heard its call as it flew overhead.

It was once again the smell of smoke that sent her running. The smell of smoke, not from the peat that heated her dwelling and cooked her food, but the smell of wood burning, carried on the wind and alerting her to the presence of another. She ran to the ridge and lay on her stomach, keeping her head low to the ground, searching the landscape until she found him.

Crawling backwards, deeper into the tall grass she watched the tall stranger kick at the embers, covering them with dirt and turn back to the circle of monoliths. He lifted his head and looked to the ridge, as if he knew she was watching, before calling out to someone behind him. She watched him walk into one of the stones and disappear with a dark haired woman following, and wondered when they would return and if this time her gods would be with her.

.

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**Nine Years Ago**

**September 20, 1999**

Constance and Severus returned to the manor, neither one speaking as they made they way over the rocky pinnacle, Snape walking sure footed and quickly, leaving Constance to slowly make her way behind. Once they had closed the door behind them, he set up the wards and turned to the liquor cabinet where he poured each of them a drink.

"We should have stayed there," Constance said softly. "Now it's cut off and if we find out the other's don't lead anywhere we are stuck."

"It is already inhabited and I do not care to live as a Sheppard."

"And I don't care to live here and we didn't even see anyone, only an empty…hovel. Maybe whoever was there found a way out."

Severus handed her a glass of amber liquid before taking his normal place behind an over large desk, piled high with old texts and scrolls. "I am not repeating myself."

Constance nodded; knowing now was not the time to push. She walked to the window and stood looking out at the dark landscape of rocks and crevices that dropped into the foaming sea below. She had enjoyed the short time they had spent in the other world, with its cool grasses flowing as far as she could see and the sun over her head.

"I think I miss daylight the most," she sighed, sipping her drink. "You are right though. At least here we aren't in the open."

"Once we find a replacement for your wand's core it will be better for you," he said slowly.

"Ironic, isn't it? You, who are used to living as a Muggle can use your magic…wandless to be sure…and I, who have never lived without it, have none."

"You still have your magic." He leaned back in his chair, scowling at her from under his brows. "I told you we will find a core that works."

"Right," she sighed and turned back to him. "Have you taken your potion today?" Not hearing his response, she heard only the scratching of his quill as he lowered his head back to his desk. "I'll collect it. You know you have to take it until the last of the tremors are gone."

She left the room, went up two fights of stairs to his bedroom, and picked up one of the vials that sat on a small table next to his bed. Sitting on the edge of the matrices, she took a deep breath, not wanting to return to the library. At times like this, when her disappointment was almost palpable, she was afraid to face him, afraid that he would see her tears.

At first, he had seemed resigned to the fact that she had spirited him away to a place of safety. The discovery of Voldemort's secret stash of anti-venom had been a surprise, as had the mere fact that they found themselves outside of Wizarding- Brittan, or so she had thought. In the first two weeks, she had been too busy to pay much attention to more than the fact that she could not perform even the simplest spells, spending the better part of the day changing his bandages manually and bathing him in cool water to bring down his raging fever.

She had cursed Voldemort for setting the wards too tight, for choosing such a dark and dreary place, for the lack of fireplaces, and most of all for the lack of clocks or manual timepieces. It was hard to tell time and without it she was not sure where one day started and the next left off. In those first two weeks she woke at odd hours, not knowing if was as night or day. Only after time did she notice the subtle difference between dark days and darker nights.

At least here Severus had started to respond to potions, regaining his strength and soon able to take nourishment. Constance had been surprised and relieved to find vast storage rooms filled with tinned food and staples. Once a week she made a trip to the lower levels and brought up what she could carry to the kitchen. Confused by the lack of fireplaces and not able to turn on the burners, she fed Severus juices, tinned meats, broth and cold soft vegetables. It wasn't until the day he threw the tray across the room in disgust that she knew he would live.

Once she had realized the darkness was not from storms obscuring the sun, or waking in the middle of the night, she had pulled the heavy curtains closed, knowing she should wait before telling him they were in a magically hidden place and not in a safe house as she had assumed. The fist time she had heard the screams in the night and had run to his room, knowing that he could not protect her, but feeling safe just to hear his steady breathing, she had known this place was not of the earth. The next morning after she had fed him and waited until he had fallen back into a fitful sleep she had searched the manor for anything she could use as a weapon. Once Severus was able to stand and hold on to her, and able to make his way to a chair that sat in the corner of his room, she had opened the curtains and told him what she feared.

He had sat quietly, as he did now at his desk, and merely looked at her oddly. Then, struggling to stand had demanded that she take him to the library so he could figure out where they were. It took him only two hours to begin raging at her, throwing his ink pot and smashing the glass display cases that held hourglasses that ran backwards, not needing to be flipped over to mark the passage of time, and old magical lamps that had long ago lost their spells.

He had accused her of vile, venomous things, being in league with the Dark Lord, and not his own ally, cowardly running away, stopping short of wishing her dead. She had stood and taken his wrath, but was no longer sure if she had done so from fear of him or her secret joy that he had lived. She took him his potion, set it at his elbow and turned to leave.

"Constance," he said, leaning back and pinching the bridge of his nose. "We have over thirty more gates to check, seven alone right here. It is not yet a hopeless cause."

"I know," she sighed, perching on the windowsill to watch the unchanging sight in front of her. "I just get my hopes up each time we try. It's foolish that I would even want to get out of here. Azkaban is the only thing waiting for me and if I am lonesome for Dementors I only have to step outside."

"If I were not limited, as to research material, my work would go much faster," he replied, choosing to ignore her comment.

"If you were not limited we would not be here," she tried to joke, only to see him return to his tomes. "I think it's the boredom, that and you blame me."

"I have never said this was your fault," he muttered, not looking up.

"You mean after your first tantrum? " She smiled and leaned against the window frame. "Severus? What if we never get out?"

"I will find a way," he said evenly.

"How do you know?" She insisted. "How do you know we won't die here?"

"I don't. However, if there is a way I must take it," he said under his breath.

She turned back to the sight of the waves crashing far below and thought it odd that he had not said _we_, _because we must_. She felt the prickling of tears behind her eyes and stood up. "I think I will practice more defence moves today. We don't know if your magic will hold."

"Wait," he lifted his head from his parchment and slowly put down his quill. "If I am correct, and I find nothing to discount what I have found, it may be impossible for us to leave. Furthermore, with the dangers here I cannot say that in the foreseeable future you will not be alone. I will need to show you how to use the generator if I can not find you a suitable wand core."

Silence filled the air as she felt a leaden weight fall on her shoulders, her breath seemed to still in her lungs as she fought to clear her mind and respond to what he said. She looked up from her window seat and saw him crossing the room, his arms catching her before she fell to the floor. He lowered her gently, scowling at her reaction.

"You suspected this, did you not?" he said flatly.

"No," she said, pushing, his hands away, drawing deep breaths. "Don't be an arse. You wouldn't dare die on me."

"Fine," he spat, standing up and turning back to his desk.

"What to you think? Do you think I bought you here knowing that? You bloody idiot!" she yelled, pulling herself up to the feet. "Fuck off Snape!"

He spun on his heel and returned to her, yanked her by the arms and angrily shook her. "Who told you of this place?"

"I told you," she hissed.

"A likely story, you just happened to overhear something that the Lord never would have said if he thought anyone was near."

"I'm not lying, I told you…he was at the Malfoy's, I was waiting for Narcissa, he …"

"Do not lie to me."

"I'm not! I told you."

"Why did you not tell me then? Why did you wait until we were here? Didn't you think it was important? Didn't you think?"

"I…I don't know. It didn't mean anything, not really. I didn't think it mattered where Yaxley went, they were laughing…joking."

"You did not find that strange?" he asked her, his disgust evident on his face. "What else did you fail to tell me? What else did you overhear that could have save lives?"

"Let go of me," she twisted angrily. "You never trusted me…from the beginning you have always doubted what I said. What the fuck was I supposed to do? I told you he was there, who he was meeting with, who he…who disappeared. I risked everything for you."

"You had nothing to risk," he said evenly, pushing her away.

She saw him then, really saw him and the anger that had consumed him, the hatred that ate at his soul and would forever stop her from being truly honest with him. All the years of living on the edge of two worlds had embittered him, leaving him cold and unfeeling, unable to understand why she did what she had, and unwilling to accept someone that did not fall into his narrow concept of good or evil.

She had known he was unyielding the first time she had met him. She just out of sixth year, he already in the grasp of the Dark Lord, they had seen each other for the first time at her wedding reception. He had raised his eyebrow, properly bowed, smirking at the blush that had covered her face at the off colour jokes, and not too kind innuendoes a gathering of Death Eaters was sure to unleash. Gregory had thrown back his head and had laughed at her innocence and explained that he had taken the stupid bint in an arranged marriage at the insistence of his parents and to please his Lord. She had seen a flicker of concern, a momentary hesitation on Snape's face before his eyes came back to her's and his sneer had returned. A few months later when her world was thrown upside down. Snape had watched as he stood beside her husband as she went down on her knees and had her life branded into her arm.

He would always see her like that, on her knees in front of the Lord, him not truly understanding that she had no choice. Now she looked at him and wondered when she had been so stupid to think he could have cared for her as she did for him. So stupid to have thought he had the room in his heart for more then the anger and hatred that he carried like a badge of honour.

"No, I had already lost everything. Forgive me for thinking I had anything left."

"You should have let me die," he spat.

"I'll remember that for the next time you have your bloody throat ripped open," she seethed. "What is wrong with you? If I am…am…imprisoned here the same as you, why are you so angry? Leave! Figure it out and leave!"

"You used the mark to come here!" he raged at her. "You didn't enter through a gate you can not leave through one. It is a waste of time to travel between places. Even if we find the final gate it will be closed to us. Perhaps if you had paid attention to the conversation you overheard you would have been smart enough to stay away from here. You have no one to blame but yourself! The best you can hope for is to find a more inhabitable place."

After their argument, she had tried to stay to her rooms, leaving only to grab something from the kitchen or search the library for something to read, finding only texts and dusty tomes of dark magic or martial arts. Once a day, she would sneak pass the library door to the staircase that would take her down to the rooms underneath the manor, and to the room lined with mirrors and stocked with weapons. She leaned to strike targets with heavy knifes, burying their tips deep into soft wood. She learned how to wield the heavy and clumsy axe that she had found resting against the wall.

Strange, she had thought, that the most powerful wizard known would have taught his followers to fight hand to hand. Strange, that even without them having magic, the Dark Lord would have relied on ancient Muggle arms for his followers. Then, she had remembered the sound of the nightly shrieks, the haunting screams that filled her dreams, and began to practice.

In her self-imposed exile from Snape's company, she became more attuned to his movements. She would become angry when she knew he had foregone his potion, when she did not hear him enter the kitchen for a whole day, or when she knew from the lack of footfalls on the steps he had spent another sleepless night. Knowing that he would never knock on her door to talk or to seek her company, she spent the days, when not practicing in the lower room, staring out the window and dreaming of what could have been.

At night, when the already dark skies would take on a hint of inky clouds, she would stand at her bedroom window and watch him walk the perimeter of the grounds. He would check the fuel levels of the evenly spaced propane torches before lighting them, and then adjust the wick to a higher level. So far, he had managed to hold off the Inferi with simple fire, and had told her that they had several years of fuel.

Watching him flood the yard with light she knew he turned the flames higher than they had at the beginning. Each night the lifeless creatures came closer as they grew more accustom to the flame. She wondered, how many years worth of fuel they had left, and how many years she would be alone.


	10. A Night at Sirius'

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

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**The Chasm**

**Chapter 8**

**A Night at Sirius'**

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After bathing and dressing in the homespun tunics, Hermione and Ronald sat on the floor at the low table, watching as Mara knelt at the fire and pulled out roasted nuts and parsnips from the glowing embers. Lifting a joint onto a wooden plank, she turned and pushed it on the table in front of them, then did the same with the rest of the dinner. She stood and with a scowl at Hermione, said something in her native tongue and turning to the door stepped out into the darkness.

"What was that all about?" Hermione watched the woman leave, feeling Mara had just slighted and not knowing why.

"I don't know. Maybe she doesn't like another woman in her house. You would think she would be pleased to get out of here," Ronald said quietly, not wanting Sirius to overhear.

"Come on you two, eat!" Sirius grinned as he came in with Harry behind him. "We've never had company, at least let me feed you before we leave. It may be a while before your next hot meal."

"Shouldn't we wait for Mara?" Harry said grinning, studying the table as he sat on the floor. "Do we just…no forks?"

"No, use you hands," Sirius laughed, slapping him on the shoulder. "Eat. Go on. I tried to make some out of scrapes of drift wood we find on the beach from time to time but never could get it right."

"What of Mara?" Hermione asked.

"No, she'll eat later, come on now. I want to hear about everyone. Remus. What is he up to? I miss him you know. Did he ever get that…"

"He's dead." Harry said softly. "Lots of them are."

"Remus?" Sirius' face darkened as he looked from one to the other. "He was a good man. A good man. Gods, I…I never even considered that he would be gone."

"We all lost a lot," Ronald said evenly, watching Hermione from the corner of his eye. "When we get back we can show you all the Daily Prophet copies. I've got all of them."

"He's right, Sirius. Let's wait until we get back and talk," Harry agreed.

"No, I need to know," Sirius said softly, lowering his head. "Other then you three, Harry, who is left? Ronald, your parents?"

"We lost Fred." He did not elaborate, as he reached for the wooden plank holding the joint and pushed it in front of Hermione.

"We'll talk after dinner," Harry said, seeing Hermione stiffen. "I'm starving."

"The Headmaster," she said tersely, "Moody, Remus' wife…he was married to Nymphadora."

"Nymphadora? I always liked her…how are her parents? Andromeda was always my favourite…"

"She's fine, but she lost Ted, her husband. Her daughter, her husband…her sister. Bellatrix is gone…I know she was with Voldemort…but she was your family as well," Harry leaned his arms on the table and tried to smile. "It's been ten years since the war ended. We lost fifty in just that one day and so many before that. The thing to remember is that it's over. Voldemort is dead, this time for good."

"The Order was hit the hardest. Most of them are gone," Hermione said pointedly.

"We can catch you up later," Harry said, throwing Hermione a warning look. "Now tell me about you and this wife of yours."

"She is a good cook, that is if you like roasted mutton and fish," Sirius said with an edge to his voice, making Hermione look at him sharply.

"It looks delicious. I am surprised at how she can manage in just an open fire pit," Hermione said, watching Sirius rip a piece of meat from the bone and then did the same.

"Yeah," he laughed, smiling widely. "She's had a lot of practice. Oh, one thing, before you go…scratch your name…or at least an initial in the table…it's another one of her customs. She somehow thinks that the house its self will remember you as a friend if you leave your name in it."

"She'll be glad to get out of here," Ron spoke around a mouth full of mutton.

"She's staying," Sirius said, then slapped Harry on the back again, and squeezed his shoulder. "Gods, I have to keep touching you just to know this is real."

"Oh my god, Sirius, they are gorgeous," Hermione said seeing Mara walk in, a child's hand in each of her own.

"Ah, yes." Sirius opened his arms to the children who both ran to him and climbed up on his lap until he held one on each knee. "This fine boy is Wilhelm, five years old, almost six, and this beautiful girl is my Nada, going on four now. They are named for people in Mara's family, or at least as close as I could pronounce."

"Wait until they meet mine," Harry said softly, reaching to ruffle the girl's hair.

"Okay you two, go see Mum, it's almost bed time." Sirius lifted the children and set them on the floor. "Mara fed them while you were bathing and they have a long day ahead of them. They've never seen anyone but the two of us. We don't want them too excited."

"Here," Ron scooped up Nada and slung her on his hip, "you two need to talk and Mara hasn't eaten, Hermione and I will…"

"No," Mara grabbed the girl back, looking at Sirius tearfully. "Not now, it is still my time!"

"Ron," Sirius said softly, "it's her last night with them. She wants to do it herself."

"You can't be serious," Ron said, watching her take the children in to a darkened corner of the hut and pull the curtain closed.

"She can't leave," Sirius said tersely, avoiding eye contact.

"Why ever not?" Hermione gasped.

"Sirius? You can't leave her here… not alone."

"She can't leave, we've tried. I can pass through with the children, but…she cannot. We had planned that I would take them out when Nada was older and could make the trip easier. Mara understands."

"No wonder she hates us," Hermione said, putting her hand over Sirius'.

"We can find a way. You're not leaving her." Harry spat angrily. "She's the mother…"

"Do you think we made this decision today? Since the first one was born …Harry, what do you think his life would be like here? Not now, but when they are older? No friends, no…no chance to…to have a family…to…" his voice fell off as he heard Mara step back into the main room. "Eat, please, Mara spent all afternoon on this, eat."

.

.

After they had finished, Hermione went outside and made a bed with the coarse blanket Mara had supplied her and sat down, pulling off her boots.

"Hermione? Do you…may I join you?" Ronald asked.

"Sure." She moved over to make room for him. "They still talking?"

"Yeah." He flopped down on the blanket next to her. "She hasn't said a word, just sits on the floor tending the fire, watching."

"I can't imagine it." She turned to study his face. "He's right though. He can't leave the kids here, and he can't spend the rest of his life in this place. Ron, have you noticed how strange she is?"

"This whole place, yeah. Look at the house, strange that."

"I thought of that but then dismissed it. With the resources they have, they didn't have much of a choice, look around, not even many trees, but… the other things. Wilhelm? Her accent? The herbs she keeps throwing in the fire. How old do you think she is?"

"Old?" He grinned and waggled his eyebrows. "Don't look too old to me."

"You know what I mean."

"I figure she was born here. That may explain why she can't leave and why she seems so old fashioned."

"Do you think there are others here then? Family and such?"

"Why not? Not many, but if she was born here there would have to be. I can't imagine he would leave her on her own. We haven't looked beyond here and with Harry and Sirius, talking you can't get word in. Plus that, have you noticed every time we ask a question about her or the kids Sirius changes the topic?"

"We should make sure before it's what she wants before we leave."

"Sirius says we go at daylight. Hermione, don't go putting yourself between them. It's their choice."

"We need to find out what Sirius knows before we go charging off. He didn't come here right off. You heard him. He says he's been to all those other places. By the ages of the kids he's been here …what …seven years? Before that he …he was lost."

"I think he wants to get out of here, away from the house. He and Mara…they are having a row."

"Ron, she hasn't said a word."

"Exactly," he said seriously. "Whenever you got really angry you didn't either."

"That's different. I didn't know you were going to leave forever. She does."

"If you had?"

She studied his face playing back the night she had discovered his infidelity by simply turning on the answering machine and hearing a woman's voice call out to him and giggle mindlessly about their time together. She wondered what she would have done if she had faced him then, if she had been able to do more than concentrate on breathing as she had vomited into the toilet.

It had not even been a shock to her, or unexpected, she had somehow known it would happen. She had felt pushed aside, unwanted and abandoned for some time, the fact that he had slept with someone else just made it final, real, a reality she had not wanted to recognize until he forced it on her. They had not seen each other or talked in the several months before it happened. She had still waited for him and ran to the post every day in hopes that there would be a letter, a note, something, knowing there would be nothing. She had hidden her disappointment behind her work in the city, as he hid behind his travel and life in the Sudan, neither able to talk about what was happening.

"Whatever it was between us happened long before you left that night."

"I wasn't talking about that night. When I told you I wanted to take my job as a Curse Breaker, you didn't say a word. You didn't tell me that you would leave me if I …"

"I didn't plan on leaving you."

"You didn't plan on making the marriage work."

"How do you think I felt? You come home after three months and say 'Oh, did I tell you I've been offered a permanent position?' How do you think that made me feel? Then later, when you were gone months at a time…what was I supposed to do?"

"I thought you would be pleased for me."

"Pleased that you were saying you didn't want to live with me? That you were going to live in Africa without me?"

"That's not what I said, it's what you heard."

"Ronald, that's not fair," she sniffled, wiping at her eyes as she felt them fill with tears.

"Was it fair to talk to Frank about our problems instead of coming to me? You didn't once come to me, not once did you tell me how you felt yet you ran to him every time you had a problem, every time. You even celebrated your promotion with him. Not me, not your husband, you never gave me a chance."

She snapped her eyes up and locked them on his, seeing the pain at his confession that he had known about her friendship. "You never seemed interested in my work and I didn't have anyone else…I just…he was…just a friend."

"It hurt, My-own, it hurt more than you know. It's just me here now. Your can stop with your _poor little me_ act, no one is here to listen."

She swallowed hard, hearing him slip back into his nickname for her, needing to change the topic. "We should get some sleep."

"Sure," he snorted a harsh laugh. "Whenever we start talking about your part in this you pull back and accuse me."

"He is just a friend. Who was I suppose to go to? Ginny? Harry? Your sister or your best friend? Who did I have to talk to? I don't have anyone that wasn't your's first. I don't have a …a family the size of a small country to run to, or one that understands what this world is like …just tell me…who should I have gone to?"

"Your husband," he said coldly, standing up, stepping off the blanket and walking away. "Get some sleep. We leave first thing."

"Who is running way now?" She yelled at his back, coming to her feet. "God damn you Ronald Weasley, you get back here."

"What for?" he spat, turning back and glowering at her. "So you can make some other comments about how I left poor little Hermione all by her self? So you can …"

"You son-of –a-bitch! You left me! You said you loved me then fucked her and walked away!"

"No," he snorted a laugh, "I ran. You want to fuck your boss go right ahead."

He felt Hermione's hand strike his face and caught it before she could pull it back. Yanking her into his chest, he fisted the hair on the back of her head, and pulled her face to his. Leaning down, he captured her mouth with his before she had time to protest and held her still until he felt her struggling stop and felt her lean into him. He released her, stepping back and looking down at her coldly. Hermione put a hand to her lips and looked up at him tearfully.

"I did love you, and Merlin help me, I still do. You decided your career was more important than we were. I never asked you to quit. I never asked you to follow me. Again, you heard what you wanted to hear, not what I said." He spoke calmly then grabbed her upper arms in a vice like grip. "Remember me? Ronald Weasley who hides his tempter, who avoids confrontation? Your husband that believed everything you said? Isn't that what you told Frank? What do you think I felt like when I saw you with him when you told me you were working? My friend died, he caught a curse meant for me. I needed you. I needed someone that I thought would understand what I felt like. What the fuck should I have done?

That night I came home. Like an idiot I thought you would be there…for once, you would be there for me, not with Frank. I never wanted to hurt you before, but that night…that night I wanted you to feel what it was like.

Don't pretend it was all my fault. I don't give a damn what you say to Harry, or the rest. Keep up your game in pubic if it's that important to you, but stop it. Stop pretending to me. You were never there for me."

Hermione felt she knees weaken and was aware that he was not only holding her in anger but also keeping her on her feet. She turned her head, unable to look at his face, unable to take a deep breath of air.

"What's wrong? Nothing to say all of a sudden?"

"It was a mistake. He was just a friend," she whispered. "I needed someone. That was all he was, a friend."

"Right, you made a little mistake and like a bloody fool I pretended not to know. That was my mistake. Maybe if I had done something then we wouldn't be fighting now."

"You…I…Ron, please," she stammered. "I swear…he was just a friend. It never went further than that."

"Don't push me anymore, Mione. I am tired of being the person every one blames. I am tired of trying to keep up a front just to spare you. You didn't have to sleep with him to tell me it was him you wanted and not me. It ends today, now. You want to get into this? Fine, only I'm not pretending anymore. You want to drag this out in public? I'm all for it. Is that what you want?"

She shook her head, keeping it lowered, unable to face him and slumped to the blanket as he released her.

"I never wanted him that way," she whispered.

"I didn't think I wanted someone else either," he said flatly. "Not until you were gone."

"Did you…did you love her?" She looked into his face, tears streaming down her face.

"I didn't even know her bloody name." He looked at her with disgust evident on his face, then turned and walked away.

.

.

.

That night after Harry left to join Hermione and Ronald, Sirius reached his hand down to Mara as she sat by the fire and pulled her up, lifted her chin and studied her face. "They are good people. You shouldn't treat them like this."

"I don't like her."

"Hermione? Why ever not?"

"She already has two men, now she will have you."

He chuckled and leaned down, kissing her lightly on the mouth, sighing when she turned her head away. "It doesn't work that way. They are friends, nothing more and she is young enough to be…it is different in my world."

"She dresses like a man. Promise me your new woman will not…"

"Hey, don't." He said softly and engulfed her in his arms. "You made me a promise."

"Nada is not yet old enough, and Wilhelm just a boy. Your people will wait. We will build them their own place near the…"

"Mara, stop. Don't make this harder than it is for yourself."

"Then, sleep, sleep with your friends and the girl that dresses like a man," she pushed him away angrily. "Go to your people. Go to your soft woman and young girls that know nothing."

"This is our last night together, come to bed," he said tiredly, not wanting to fight on his last night with her.

"No, you don't need me anymore." She stepped back from him, shaking her head. "I was here. Nothing more. You said…it is nothing more."

"It's not like that, Mara," he said softly, taking a step toward her.

"You said you would leave. At the beginning, you said you would leave. Now go. I will live as I did before. I don't need you." She turned and ran out the door, running into the tall grass and away from the hut.

"Papa?" Nada called, peeking out from behind the flap and rubbing her eyes. "Mum cry?"

Sirius tore his eyes away from the doorway and turned to his daughter. "No, no she is just excited that we have company. Can't sleep? Come on, you can spend the night with your old Dad and tell your brother to stop pretending. He can come as well."

He took them to the bed on the floor that he shared with their mother, and once he had them tucked in, he went outside to find Mara. After he had searched the grounds, the house sat on, he went back to bed, knowing if she did not want him to find her, he could spend the entire night searching.

They left in the morning, after eating flatbread that Mara had grilled on the firestones the night before, and a jug of goat's milk that Sirius had collected while the three were making friends with the children. As they left, Sirius stopped in the doorway and looked back at the place he had spent the last eight years of his life. Seeing nothing to take now that Ron and Harry carried the two stone axes, and Hermione had one of the slings tucked into her waistband, he let his eyes linger on the bed in the corner before letting the flap fall and joining the others that were already walking up the slope.

"Where's, Mum?" Wilhelm asked, sliding his hand into his father's much larger one.

"She had to check on the herd," Sirius lied easily.

"Will she meet us?"

"No, she won't be coming with us. We are going to the sea. We will make a day of it. Maybe there will be time for a swim."

"Will we be home in time for dinner? Mum said she would put honey on the bread tonight."

"No, but soon you have something better than honey. Chocolate biscuits, shepherds pie, real tea."

"Hungry?" Harry laughed overhearing the conversation.

"You have no idea." Sirius grinned and swung the boy up on his shoulders. "You know what I miss? Soap. Soap that lathers, soft towels and toothpaste. I miss sheets. That's right, laugh at me…but I miss sheets."

"Soon," Harry laid his hand on Sirius' shoulder as they walked along. "How much further?"

"We can follow the water once we get to the river. It is longer, but it's faster going with the children. We bring them this way sometimes. It is the same beach I spoke of. I even tied to build a raft once." He tipped his head up and laughed. "That was a sight. The waves pushing me back and the damned grass sucking up more water by the minute. Lasted all of five minutes and must have taken me months to build it. Thought Mara would die laughing at me. I've never seen her like that."

"Will she be okay?" Harry ginned.

"She was on her own before." Sirius swung the boy down and shooed him off to walk with the others. "Harry, before I came here I wandered. I kept trying to get out, back, somewhere I didn't have to fight my way just to live. I even lived in a cave once. Never want to do that again. Once I made it this far the fight was out of me. I almost died, she …she helped me. It was the first safe place I found, so I stayed."

"Looks like you did more then that." Harry grinned, nodding to the children.

"I didn't plan on them," Sirius said quietly. "I would die for them, you have to understand that. I didn't … it's not as if I could run down to Diagon and pick up a potion for her. When I learned she was pregnant the first time you can't imagine what I felt like. Look around you. What kind of place is this to bring a life into? With the second she hid from me a full month. She says she was afraid I would make her…as if I could do that. I can't imagine life without Nada now. Look at her, Harry. Just look at her. She is my life."

"Do you love her? Mara?"

"It's not that simple, Harry. She…it's hard to explain her." Sirius muttered, watching the children walking ahead of him. "Have you seen this place or the one over the south ridge?"

"The south? So, there are three circles?"

"Yes, the one in the pasture I am afraid I've used up," he said, laughing. "This one has a few of the same stones. The others you may be familiar with. The third was already destroyed before I got here. Even Mara doesn't remember it whole."

"Hermione has a list, she can add the ones we've used and add them to yours."

"You were lucky to have found this place so quickly. Damned lucky. I kept leaping from world to world, foolish that. I thought I understood what the runes meant so stuck to the ones I was familiar with. That's why I cannot use the monoliths in the meadow, I kept trying to get Mara out, but if we come to the same shape, in a place I haven't used, it is open to me."

"So, you could come back? In a different way, but you could do it."

"For Mara? Perhaps, if we ever find a map. It's not easy to get back where you've been. I don't even know how many gates are still open to this place. Three of the stones in the Meadow have never opened. I think the ones on the other end are gone. I've seen it before, monoliths destroyed or underwater. I was bloody lucky that time," he grinned. "Now, come, I don't want Wilhelm and Nada knowing we are leaving, not yet. And, Harry, don't mention Mara to them. It's going to be hard enough when they find out they are not coming back as it is."

That night Sirius passed out slabs of cheese and bread to the others, only to have Hermione collect all but the children's and store them away in her jacket pockets and the sack she had tied to her back.

"We'll save it for morning," she said quietly. "Unless we know for sure there's food where we are going we better ration."

"Let's see what you have. Harry said you have a list of …the runes. We need to plan on how the hell we are getting out of here, and you need to understand it may be harder then you think."

"We have an advantage now. We have you." Hermione pulled out pictures of the forty-eight runes and listened as Sirius told her of the ones he had gone into, how far to the circle containing the way out, and the dangers they could encounter.

"We have three circles here. I don't know if that is typical or if some places are somehow different. I've seen places with more than one…but can't say they are all this way. I never stuck around most of the worlds long enough to find out. I can tell you this; many of the circles have been destroyed. This one will soon be gone. Each year the shore erodes a little more. Mara said when she first came the sea wasn't this close, now look…two of the stones stand in the water. It won't be long before the soil is washed out from under them and they fall. I wouldn't want to the one that steps though into a wall of sand. I've come out underwater before, and was just lucky there was a stone near by that I could get to."

"You think that the world they open into is gone as well?"

"Yes…yes I do. I've been to one that is drying up…like a desert. The third time I travelled through it, it was smaller. Took half the time to get across it."

"How many let you use magic?"

"None that I have found. Oh, there are places with magical…creatures, Inferi, banshees. I've seen tracks of things I couldn't identify, and don't want to. Inferi are made with magic, which is strange, but they don't use magic. I used to think someone brought them in."

"Inferi ?" Hermione's eyes grew large. "Harry, was in a cave…the one …I am sorry…Harry?"

"Sirius, your brother, he…he," Harry swallowed hard, "he fought them…he…no, Sirius, listen, it's not what you think. You thought he had been killed fighting for that beast, Voldemort, but he didn't. Just the opposite. He found out what Voldemort was planning, he helped…he did…he stole a locket that held…."

"He went against him?" Sirius asked softly. "Merlin, all these years… all this time, I thought he…"

"No, he was helping Dumbledore, but no one knew it. We found a lot of that old stuff was wrong," Ronald added. "Snape was another one."

"Quite a lot was not like what we thought. The Malfoys turned to the good, and Snape even turned out to be nothing like what we thought."

"He was in the Order. I never trusted him, but for some reason Albus did. Even in school, he doted on Dark Arts and ran with Wilkes and Mulciber. From the first time I met him he was picking for a fight, as if he had to prove himself." Sirius grinned to where his children were playing. "I've never told them anything about my old life, not that part of it. Oh, they know about childhood pranks and what it's like to live in a real house, but nothing…ever about the war. Now they have an uncle they can be proud to call their own. I want them registered as Blacks. I want them to understand that even if that name will cause them problems they can change it. They can make that name something proud to wear again."

"We need to finish this," Hermione said, spreading out the pictures. "You guys need to memorize the ones we need to avoid."

"That won't always work," Sirius shook his head and tapped one of the pictures. "This one doesn't exist, and these two are blocked. However, the rest…we may have to go through one to get where we need. Look at this circle. I can eliminate six of them, and you claim that four are…"

"No, we think that one," she pointed to a tall grey stone, "goes to Brazil, to the real world."

"Not quite," he said with a chuckle. "It is empty of …people, so a good place to hide…for a while. Oh, there is food and water, if you can live with the snakes and lizards large enough to eat a house. You did well to move on."

"Prehistoric? Or like Dragons?"

"No, just unhealthy."

They spent the next couple of hours comparing notes, and listening to the horrors that Sirius had gone through, quickly scratching possibilities off their list and at the end finding only three that they thought would be safe. Hermione turned back to the monoliths not seeing any of the ones they had decided on.

"From here take your pick," Sirius said flatly. "Once we are through we find the circle and keep going until we find one we need. We move quickly, go as far as we can each day, and don't hesitate."

"I don't understand why we don't come out at a circle."

"Each world has a…an entrance. I always come out at the same place…the circle is like the exit point," Sirius said with a sigh. "Hermione, I am sorry not to be more help but I have never found a settlement, or…a place like what you were hoping for. The…the things and what few people are in here...that I know about...like your Rambo...don't adhere to any social norms. They are will kill you given half a chance. I'm surprised this woman that had Harry's throat under her knife didn't just slice his head off. Mara is the only one I ever found that seemed…real."

In the morning, Hermione gave each of the children more of the cheese and bread, and then offered some to the others, glad to hear their refusal. "We have to have something at noon," she declared. "We don't know how long this will take."

"Okay, let's get started," Ronald said, hoisting Nada up on his shoulders.

Seeing Harry take his son's hand, Sirius hesitated, turned back and swept his eyes over the valley, letting them rest for only a moment on the smoke curling up over the ridge, knowing Mara would be tending the fire. He could imagine her on her knees, feeding peat into the fire, getting ready for the coming day. She would seep bitter herbs in water, adding a drizzle of honey and have no one to apologise to for the lack of his proper tea. He knew she would walk to the corner, where the children had slept, and pull back the curtain, already missing them, and knew she would refuse to cry, refuse to admit even to herself that she was alone again and always would be.

He turned his back on the green sloping ground and the smoke that curled over the ridge determined that his children would have a life. Looking back at Harry, he tried to grin, his mind racing at the thought of her having no one. He could only remember how the sun lit her hair, how her eyes always smiled when he walked into their home, and how she could sit in prayer for hours by the sea a look of utter peace and acceptance on her face.

"Here we go, the longer we stay here the longer before we get back," he said in answer to Wilhelm's questioning look, wondering as he said it, if the boy believed him.


	11. Starting Back

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

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**The Chasm**

**Chapter 9**

**Starting Back**

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"Okay, ready?" Ronald asked, picking up Wilhelm and swinging him to his back. "Hold on now."

"Dad?" Wilhelm spun his head around and sought his father, suddenly afraid of the red headed stranger.

"Right here, kid-o," Sirius said encouragingly. "Can't carry both of you. You hold on tight now. Okay, so do we have it narrowed down, Hermione? Which one from here?"

"I guess it doesn't matter. How far is the circle from entry in that one?" Hermione pointed the monolith that sat at the very edge of the shore.

"A good day's travel," Sirius muttered. "It's not like anything you've seen before. There's not much there really. It's dark, night lasts about twenty hours…strange sticky fruit, at least I think it is…strange mushrooms that I was too scared to try. The only good thing about it there's nothing that screams and scratches around at night. Later, if we need a place to hide for a while we could use it. "

"I was wondering about food, there's not much here and what little you had we've taken. Will Mara be able to grow enough for herself?"

Sirius laughed and nodded. "She did for years before I came. She was excited once to see a new bird. Seems they occasionally land on one of the monoliths and fall in, although it's been years since that happened. She said she kept following it, hoping when it shite she would have a new fruit or a tree. I only farm because of the kids and boredom, that and it keeps things closer to the house. She still goes into the field and collects the wild grains and berries, she prefers it."

"Yeah, well…I think we should find a different portal," Ron said flatly.

"You have been to the Abyss? Harry, that's the one you were talking of?" Sirius studied Harry's face, and turned to Ronald. "That's where you lost your supplies?"

"Not exactly lost mate, taken."

"Tall witch, dark hair, wears a little more than nothing, carries a staff?"

"No a big knife," Hermione muttered. "Some fucking Amazon that will use your liver for target practice."

"I was there once. I left from there and went to…it hasn't a real name, none of these god forsaken places have a real name, but the one I happened on was a swamp, not a dry place in it. Not from what I could see," Sirius said, sounding reluctant to continue.

"Sirius, if you want to …."

"No, sorry, Harry," he sighed loudly. "I couldn't get dry. After just a few days, I felt like my skin was sloughing off. Terrible being wet all the time, say nothing of the creping rash that invades places best not talked about in mixed company," he grinned, looking from one to the other. "I left as soon as I found the circle. That was before I understood the limits, none to soon that…should have studied the portals but I just wanted out, wound up in your Amazon place. Crazy witch. Don't think I ever heard her name and I wasn't about to stick around and find out what it was. I don't think she saw me. She was busy with some Inferi. I figured if she had seen me she would have followed me out."

"Do you think she is like Mara? That she was born here?"

"No, and Mara wasn't born here. She…anyway, no…the crazy witch came. I don't know from where, or when, but even the way she talks…she hasn't been here long."

"She didn't seem interested in finding a way out, only what we were here for."

"Well, someone one must be bringing her in and out…I wish we could stay away from there but it's the easiest way. It is a dark place," Sirius warned. "I couldn't place the sounds. I think even Remus would have…" his voice dropped off as he thought of what had become of his only friend he had thought to be still alive.

"How did Mara get in? She…no offence, but she seems…odd." Harry asked.

"I think she…died."

"Bloody hell you say," Ronald gasped.

"Do you remember in the Ministry? When I fell in? There was this…rush…a rush of magic. Surely you felt it."

"I've felt it before, we all did," Ronald said with a nod.

"Hermione and I were sick, and we still don't have our magic back." Harry added.

"One has nothing to do with the other. Anyway, it was as if the rush washed off the spell my dear cousin hit me with. By the time I finished vomiting and realized I wasn't in the chamber I felt fine."

"You didn't come back out," Harry stated the obvious.

"I couldn't, not from there. Didn't you know that before you…shite. Harry, you need to find a way to the outside in a circle. They are the only ones that don't let you go backwards…as if once you are here you have to pass a test. It took me two years to figure how it works. I kept trying to get back to the beginning and when I did, it was a waste of time. Wasted bloody years doing that and got lost in the process. No, you have to find a different gateway out. You can still come out in the Ministry if you can find its mate. That has to be the trick."

"Finish, about Mara," Harry said quietly, still unable to voice his opinion of his godfather leaving her alone or the uncomfortable feeling that Sirius was not as sure as he sounded about knowing the secret of getting out of this place. "Doesn't she know how to get out?"

"Right, she prays," he laughed. "She doesn't understand why I want to leave. Harry, to her she isn't _**in**_ anywhere…this is her world. The concept that I am trapped here, that I should want to leave is beyond her reasoning. You may as well tell her you want to walk on Jupiter."

"She let you take the kids," Hermione pointed out.

"Because they are mine," he said sternly. "She's understood that from the day they were born."

"Go on, about Mara," Harry prompted.

"I know it sounds crazy, but I think the magic in the monolith replaced her life, brought her back as it is. Healed her…only more… when she fell in she was dying, but not from a magical curse, not like me, not a curse that could wash off. She has scars on her back, her side, her…Harry, she should be dead if what she said happened is true. Only she doesn't see that. She says her god saved her. Now, if she gets a cut, or falls…she heals instantly with no sign that she was even hurt. She tells the kids stories about her home, her family and …sometimes she…" his voice trailed off as he stared into the distance. "She forgets a lot…it was a long time ago."

"Sirius?"

"I don't know, Harry, she believes all the old crap, myths and such. I've always hoped to get back but she…she has no hope. Just…every day the same until…I don't think she could survive even if we could find a way. She would either die in the leaving or die seeing what the world has become. They are closed to her." He looked to the monolith and jerked his head, indicating they leave. "Come on, I want to have a good day. Sorry, it's been so long since I've had people to talk to I am hungry for it."

"Then we better get started." Hermione stood looking up at the monoliths, no longer confident that she knew anything and unable to listen to Sirius speak of Mara any longer.

"Go ahead, Nada, which one should we try," Sirius said over his shoulder, waiting for the small hand to point. "That ones gone, how about the one next to it?"

"That's the one you called the Abyss, the one with the crazy witch," Harry said frowning.

"Right, but the circle is close like I said. If you didn't see them from where you were it must have been night, but trust me…a few meters and we're there. Once we cross over keep moving, straight ahead, across some loose rocks...so watch your step. However, we can be out in minutes."

"Guess that's it," Ronald laughed, starting to walk forward.

"Wait! Nada? Come here honey." Hermione looked apologetically at Sirius, dragging Nada off his shoulders. "I'm shorter. This is the smallest portal we have used."

"Let me walk through first," Harry said with a sigh. "I hate this part. Come here, Wilhelm. We'll go through and make sure it's safe for the lady."

Hermione settled Nada on her hip and stepped forward after giving Harry and the boy a few moments. As soon her feet settled on the other side, Harry immediately pushed her to the side, screaming at her not to move as he tried desperately to keep his footing on a ledge that began to crumble under their weight. She moved Nada toward her back, instructing her to hold on, as she clutched her with her right arm, her left reaching to Harry.

"Grab my hand," she pleaded.

He had one hand on the boy who clung to his back, and as he tried to reach Hermione, his foot slipped, sending him face down, his legs hanging precariously over the edge of a dark fissure in the rock. He felt the weight of the boy and his weak hold on the edge as he slipped further back, clawing at the rock with his fingernails, desperately trying to stop from sliding further down.

"Harry!" she screamed. "Hold on…please, hold on!"

Ronald materialized onto the breaking ledge, knocking Hermione to her knees as he careened forward, tumbling over the ledge and landing on a slightly wider outcropping several meters below, followed by Sirius who managed to throw himself back against the stone entry.

"Ronald! Oh my god," Hermione set Nada's feet on the ground, hissing at her not to move and tentatively began to crawl to Harry as Sirius reached for his daughter, pushing her against the stone next to him. Hermione reached out and grabbed Wilhelm's arm, finally laying on her stomach to haul him off Harry's back at the same time peering over the edge to seek Ronald.

"Wilhelm, crawl over me…get to Nada, use Hermione…now go…hurry," Harry said to the child, trying to sound confident.

"Nada, Nada, look at me," Sirius called to his daughter loudly, covering up the sound of breaking shale and trying to take her attention away from the sight in front of her. "Hey, Dew-drop, Just keep looking at me, it's like a game. Just don't move."

Wilhelm pulled himself up and hooked one foot in Harry's belt, managing to push up enough for Hermione grab him and push him over her head so he could continue to crawl over her to the back of the ledge.

"Hermione, careful," Sirius said evenly, his eyes on the ledge, yanking Wilhelm to his side, next to Nada. "This world is disappearing. It's failing, like the desert I told you about."

"Mione!" Harry looked up at her as the slate continued to break way under him. "I can't make it back up."

"No, no…Harry …I need help, don't you dare do this…don't you dare!" She latched on to his sleeves and hung on to him, feeling him slip away from her. "Don't do this, don't you dare. You can do it...please."

Harry looked over his shoulder to the sheer drop off seeing only the black stones in the darkness and white foaming waves below.

"Harry?" Ron called up to him. "Try to move to your left…there's an outcropping. Come on, it's like jumping out a window."

"Yeah," Harry swallowed. "The one at the top of the astronomy tower. I can't Ron, if I move the whole bloody thing is going to cut loose."

"Hold on, hold on…" Hermione said franticly. "Sirius, quick! Give me that rope, your belt…from your tunic. Harry, I have an idea, hold on for one second? Just one second? Can you do that? Please."

Not waiting of an answer she grabbed Sirius's rope belt, fastened it around Harry's right wrist and began to pull, feeling Sirius reach out and grab her waistband, giving her more leverage as she wrapped the rope around her own wrist. Keeping his feet planted where he stood, one hand grappling for a firm hold on the slick rock face behind him Sirius spat at her not to wrap the rope around herself, telling her all she was doing was making sure if he fell he went with him.

She watched the dried grass rope bite into Harry's skin and his hand began to turn blue as he fought, kicking at the air in his attempt to reach the rocky surface, until he could finally throw one leg over the ledge and haul himself up. Her hands shook as she released the belt and flung her arms around him.

"Don't ever scare me like that again," she cried.

"I'll see what I can do." Harry swallowed hard and looked back over the ledge at Ronald. "Fuck."

"Harry, ease away from the edge," Sirius said softly. "No sudden moves."

Hermione looked up to study Sirius's face, seeing him looking off she followed his eyes and saw his slight nod. On the far side of the crevice stood three monoliths, one threatening to topple over the ridge, the other two lying on their sides.

"It goes to Durmstrang," Hermione said excitedly.

"It may as well go to Hogsmeade for all the luck we are going to have getting to it," Sirius said sadly, looking back to his children. "This won't hold us long. We have to keep moving or go back."

As if on cue, a low tremor stated at the bottom of the fissure, shaking the ground under them and vibrating the monoliths hard enough to make them visibly quake.

"Harry, if we can make a rope do you think you could get over there?" Sirius asked, squatting down near Harry, not wanting the others to hear.

Harry looked at the wall of slipping rock that curved around the dark fissure, shaking his head. "Only if I can get down past where Ron is, it looks sturdier down there. I think I can cross over then climb up."

"Your belts, they are made from dragon hide, if we put them together…"

"Here," Hermione pulled off her jacket, leaving her only in a short white tee. "If we can find something that will cut it, you can make strips and add it to the belts."

"It's up to you, Harry. You are lighter than me and Ron, neither of us could make it and Hermione may not have enough strength to pull the children over." Sirius looked back at his son and daughter that sat huddled against the stone. "I want them out of here. I should have waited until they were older. Mara was right about that. If you can't do this, I will take them back and wait. Harry, think about it, f you can get to the other side …maybe we can all get home. I don't know another world with this stone, I've never seen one like it. It's still our best chance out. If you can't…then I can take them back…but if you can…well…they will be safe."

Harry peered down at Ronald and saw him nod. "It looks pretty good from down here. The only tricky part is once you are across it may start crumbling the same way."

"I can tie off the rope once I get the kids over," Harry nodded grimly and pulled off his belt.

"Sirius?" Ronald called up to the ledge. "We could go back and try another route. What do you think?"

"Not now," Harry called down. "I can do it." He locked his eyes on Sirius' and gave him a reassuring smile before pulling off his belt.

"Help Hermione get the buckles off her trousers, I'll try to fashion a couple of carabineers. If you can tie off the rope it will be easier for us to cross," Ronald called up.

Sirius took the jacket, empting the pockets on the ground, ripping and cutting at the material with the stone axe and pulling it apart with his teeth, as Hermione and Harry attacked the buckles and straps. Once he had several lengths, he then knotted them together, hooking one end around his feet and pulling back on with all his weight to test that it would hold. After what seemed an eternity he tossed it down to Ronald who already had Harry on the platform with him.

Harry slipped the loop under over his head and pushed his arms up until the rope was tight around his chest, twisting it so the led was at this back, he gave Ron a lopsided grin and started out. Ron held the end of the rope Sirius had fashioned, feeding out a little at a time, ready to haul Harry back at any time.

"Nada," Hermione scooted back, unable to watch as Harry picked his way over the sheer face of the rocky sides of the crevice, choosing instead to get the children ready. "We are going to put the rope around you and…"

"No!" She shook her head glaring at Hermione. "Papa? Say no."

"Afraid not, Nada," Sirius joined them. "Remember the stories I told you? Yes? Remember I told you we would go there one day? Well…today we go."

"I want Mum," she cried, throwing her arms around Sirius's neck.

"We are late," Wilhelm said, tears welling in his eyes. "Mum gets angry if we are late and I don't like it here. I want Mum."

"Will, Mum isn't coming," Sirius said gently.

"NO!" Nada screamed, pushing against him. "I want my Mum! I go home."

"Dad? Mum said she was making something special, with honey…remember? The way you like it?" Wilhelm's eyes filled with tears as he tugged on his father's sleeve. "I can take Nada home. I know the way. Mum will be waiting and I can get all the way to the ridge by myself."

"He made it!" Ronald's voice shouted up to them, momentarily silencing the children who realized what was about to happen.

"Will, you first," Sirius said gruffly, catching the end of the rope that Ron threw up to him, the other end held firmly in Harry's hands. "You are a big boy now. You can try to go the way Harry went, and if you slip, he will pull you up. Like a game…it…"

"No, Daddy, please …" Wilhelm looked down, not able to see the bottom. "I'll stay here with you."

"I am coming too. Do you think I would let you go without me?" He gently chided the lad as he picked him up and lowered him as far as he could, letting go and watching Ronald catch him.

Hermione lay on her stomach watching as the small boy started to climb the rock as Harry had done. Feeling her own tears when she saw how his hands shook, and his chest hitched with sobs, she wanted to look away. Then suddenly she was holding her breath as he fell, not breathing again until Harry pulled him up and had him safely next to him.

"You guys better be quick," Harry shouted as he swung the rope over his head, finally releasing it and sent its end sailing back to Ronald. "This place is getting unstable. I can feel the whole fucking thing moving."

"Heads up," Ron called as he slung the end of the rope up to the top ledge, waiting until he saw Sirius' hand grasp it firmly before he let go, leaving one end to tie on the girl, the other with Harry.

"No," Nada wrapped her legs around Sirius, her hands fisted behind him, clutching his collar. "I'll be good…promise…I'll be a good girl. I want my Mum."

"Ah, honey," Sirius breathed heavily, afraid if he started cry he would never be able to finish. "I'll be right there. The rope won't hold the both of us…''

"Hurry up," Harry called as another quake sent reverberations up to the shaft. "It' going to let loose."

"That's it," Sirius spoke sharply, no longer having time to be kind and needing Nada to respond. "You young lady will do as your told. Now put your feet down."

As soon as she slid her feet from around his waist, her lip trebling, her tears mixing with snot and running down her chin, Hermione spun her around and forced the rope over her, ignoring her pleas and screams, being as rough and down to business as Sirius had been. Nodding to Sirius he roughly pushed her over the edge, and lowered her down to Ron.

"Harry," Sirius yelled, "Pull her up. She can't make it."

Nada screamed as she was yanked off her feet and slowly rose up the slick surface of the cliff, all the while calling for her Mum, her sobs echoing down the stone shaft. Harry wrapped the rope around his waist reaching out to grab Nada's hand as the ground shifted. Falling to his knees he held on to Nada with one hand, half turning and shoving Wilhelm into the stone behind him with the other, not able to take the time to watch as the boy was swallowed into the monolith, he reached with his now free hand, using both to haul up the small girl.

Hermione let out a scream as the monolith began to topple over what remained of the ledge that Harry still clung to, falling into the dark void toward the sea. With a look of resolve and a slight nod to his godfather, Harry pulled Nada to him and leapt from the crumbling ledge, colliding with the great obelisk as it and he fought to survive in the same space.

"Harry!" Hermione screamed from her place on her knees, then leaned forward sobbing onto the ground.

"Mione," Sirius squatted down behind her, his face white, his voice shaking. "They were pulled into it as it fell, they made it."

"You don't know that." She sat up, furious that he would have put the children at risk and furious that she had allowed it.

"You won't know until…until you are back." He stood up assessing their situation. "Ron?"

"Yeah." Ron sat on the ledge, coughing and fighting for air. "Bloody hell, we got to get the fuck out of here."

"Ron? Are you okay?" Hermione lay down on her stomach and peered down at him.

"Yeah, but a wee bit dusty down here. I just inhaled half a mountain."

"Look down, only about a meter or two…it opened up a new fissure…you can make it along the edge if you are careful. I'll lower Hermione down first."

"Mione? I got a good look from here…I think he's right. I think Harry made it."

She swallowed hard and slipped her feet over the edge, letting Sirius hold her hands and dangle her down as far as he could before letting her drop. Ron stepped out on the edge of the new fissure, making room for Sirius and gave him the signal to jump.

"No, I'm going back." Sirius said lightly, shrugging his shoulders. "You tell Harry, tell him…tell him I have what I want. Tell him to take care of my children, and let them know that we both love them.''

"If you go back, you said yourself you can't leave again," Ronald frowned and locked his eyes on Sirius feeling something pass between them.

"Ron, take care of her. Don't wait until she's gone and regret it," he said to Ron as he locked his eyes on Hermione. "Tell Harry I love him, and tell my children their mother is proud of them."

"Sirius, you can't do this," Hermione screamed, trying to see him over the edge of the ledge. "You won't get another chance. You promised Wilhelm…my gods…if he made it what do we tell him?"

"The only time I remember being happy before I came here was at Hogwarts. Seven years of my entire life. Tell Harry my family is here, he'll understand." He knelt down and peered over the edge, pulling a talisman from his neck and throwing it down to them. "Give this to Wilhelm. Tell him I stayed with his mother. I love her. I don't think I believed it until now…seeing the children…knowing I will never see them and what she must feel. She gave them to me. She did that for _**me**_. You have no idea how hard it was for her in this place with no other women to help her, what she went through.

They're young, they'll forget and someday they'll ask you questions about us. Tell them…tell them we love them…tell them how much they were wanted, and tell them they are Blacks. They don't understand last names," he said as he tried to laugh. "Give that to Wilhelm, tell him he is the last of the Blacks and I expect grandchildren. Gods, tell Harry I love him. He'll understand."

They watched him turn and step back into the monolith, disappearing back to Mara's valley, Hermione screaming for him to come back as Ronald pulled her into his chest.


	12. The City of Dis

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

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**The Chasm**

**Chapter 10**

**The City of Dis**

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Hermione held on to Ron's waistband as they slowly edged along the shale ledge that gave them just enough room to slide their feet sideways, keeping their backs flush to the black rock. As each new tremor reverberated through the range Hermione stopped and squeezed her eyes shut as Ronald took the opposite approach and inched more quickly along the crumbling path, forcing her to move behind him.

The last tremor took the narrow outcropping they had just transversed, plunging it down the abyss to the crashing waves below, leaving Hermione feeling nauseous and weak. She fought not to look back to where they had been, now cut off and making it impossible to return.

"Ron, I need to sit down," she said softly.

"Let me know when we come to a chair," he said lightly, studying her face. "Wait." He stopped and fought to take off his jacket on the narrow ledge. "Put this on…I know…it's not cold but you're dehydrating. This may help. Come on, just a little farther. As soon as we get off this bloody thing we can find a place to hole up."

"If there is a way off," she muttered, voicing her fear that in this place all that remained was more of the same. After what seemed hours, the ledge gave way to a wider path, and stepping around the last bend in the path they were able to step up to the summit.

"Fuck," Ronald sighed, turning to Hermione. "Not the place I would choose to spend the night."

"Don't tell me," she said flatly, looking at the flat expanse, dotted with dozens of small piles of rocks, all of uniform size, spaced in regular intervals.

"Yep," he sighed. "We could look on the good side. If there are burial mounds there has to be people here to bury."

Hermione sat down heavily, drawing up her knees and lowering her head on them. "I need a minute. Please, just…just a little while."

"Ummm, Hermione, you need to see this," Ron said from the edge of the summit where he could see for what looked like miles across a flat plain that lay below.

She rolled her eyes and stood up, walking wearily and holding onto his arm once she reached him. Looking out with him, she was horrified at the number of burial mounds she saw below them. Grabbing his elbow, she turned away from the plains and back to the sea that was barely visible in the dark. "I think we better plan on climbing down this damned thing. I am not…not…going that way. Got it?"

"Other than the fact there is a stream down there I'd agree with you. We have to. If we don't get water soon we won't make it."

"Then…not till morning." She nodded toward the horizon. "It looks like it's getting darker. I think we should stay here for the night. Down there…it's too open."

Ronald sat next to one of the rock piles, leaning his back against it and pulling up his legs. "At least it's not cold."

"Ron?" Hermione looked at him tearfully, sucking in her upper lip. "I'm sorry. I should have thought this out better. I…I didn't know it would be like this, and Harry…"

"Harry made it. We have to keep thinking that." He looked at her oddly and held out his arms to her. "Come on, you never could sleep by yourself."

She hurried to him, sitting between his drawn up legs, her back to his body and laid her head down on his knee, nodding and sniffing back her sob. "I keep seeing that damned thing falling on him, what if…"

"I was beneath him, stop. I saw him disappear, I didn't see it actually land on him."

"We don't know how long it takes to pass through. We don't know if he made it to the other side before it hit the bottom. We don't even know if he did make it if he could survive the walk to Durmstrang pulling two kids in that bitter cold. Fuck…we don't even know if he can find it from the rune. Remember? It was an optical illusion."

"Go to sleep," he whispered, raising his hand to stroke her hair but letting his arm fall before touching her. "Just keep telling yourself that Durmstrang has wards that will alert them. We can't do anything about it from here and you will just make it worse worrying about it."

"What you said back there, about…you know, that you still loved me…did you mean it?" She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for him to deny his declaration.

"Go to sleep." He sighed, leaning his head back and looking up into the endlessly black sky.

"I didn't sleep with him," she said softy. "If we…don't make it back…if we die here…it's important to me that you believe me." She did not move until she drifted off to sleep and instinctively wrapped her arms around Ronald's leg and snuggled her head, rubbing her nose against his trousers as if he were a pillow.

Through the night, Ronald woke to the sound of screams in the distance. Gently disentangling himself from Hermione, he crept to the edge of the summit and looked out across the plain, where several fires now burned, trying to see what had made the sound and lacking that to see who had set the fires. Laying on his stomach, he waited until almost dawn when he felt Hermione join him.

"You should have woken me," she whispered. "My gods, what is this place?"

"Mum made us read a lot of Muggle stuff," he said thoughtfully. "She said it would be good for us to round out our knowledge. Thought it was…"

"Ron? This is not a good time to be nostalgic."

"Ever read Dante?"

Hermione looked out at the plain. "The City of Dis? There aren't any gates or iron, or bodies withering in the flames." She tried to smile. "Lets go, and like I said, I 'm _not_ going that way."

"The river has to run into the ocean." Ron crawled backwards from the edge. "Maybe we can find the mouth at the bottom."

"Or a gate," Hermione agreed. "According to Sirius most places have two circles, sometimes more."

"Right," Ronald snorted. "We better find one soon. I have a bad feeling about this place."

Again they headed across the rocky cliff face, this time intent to reach the bottom and follow the shore, hoping to find more than what they had seen from the top. Silently they picked their way ever lower, both knowing that the constant darkness, even in the lighter shade the daytime afforded them, gave them some cover from anyone, or thing, that may be watching.

As Ronald leaped off the last few meters and landed in soft sand, he turned and encouraged Hermione to do the same. Catching her, he helped her sit, pulled off his shirt, and dipped in the salty seawater to wrap around her.

"This may cool you down. You look flushed," he said, looking off in the distance. "We need water. I want you to wait here until I…"

"Oh no, I'm not sitting here alone. Ron, I have the sea to my front, the blasted rocks to my back and only one way out, and that is the same way you are going."

"Then we better get moving." He pulled out his wand and tried to cast a spell again, grinning meekly when it still did not work. "I should have learned wandless when I had the chance."

"I haven't even felt any magic." Hermione began to walk along the shore, keeping as far from the black stone cliff that rose to her right as she could. "Even in London I get a glimmer now and then, but here…nothing."

"You feel it," Ron said solemnly. "You just don't recognize it. It's all…dark here. That's part of what is bothering you."

"I would know…"

"This is old magic, Hermione, older than I have ever felt, and believe me …I've worked on spells a thousand years old. You feel nauseous, sometimes it feels like your heart is going to pound out of your chest, and that headache, right under the surface won't go away. Your hands start shaking but you don't know why, and it feels like someone is watching you all the time."

"Water, I need water. That's all it is."

"Right, the shore veers off to the right up ahead, maybe that's where the river comes out. This place is cursed, truly cursed…its old. It's as if the ground its self is holding the blackness. Don't tell me you don't feel it. It makes you scared to talk to loud, as if whispering will help keep something away, only you don't know what it is. You just know that if it ever finds you…you feel it, I know you do."

They walked all day, occasionally stopping to rest, at times walking in the shallow water of the sea to skirt around an outcropping of rock. Noticing the wall of stone did not raise quite as high, affording more sky to show, they decided to continue on, eventually seeing the rock formation taper down to meet the land. At the end of the sandy beach the stepped onto firmer ground and could at last turn back to look across the land to where they had been.

"It's not doing any good to worry about them." Ronald said, seeing Hermione unable to keep her eyes off the black mountain of stone. "We should stop and rest."

"Not until we know if there are tides here. Would there be if the moon never moves?"

"Good question," Ronald said with a frown. "Let's go further inland."

"It's getting cold and I can hardly see. We better find something quick." Hermione stopped and looked back the way they had come. "Ron?"

He brushed of his trousers and looked at his hands, not knowing if he should bother trying to clean at all. Squatting down at the water line, he managed to rinse his hands and slash water on his face, scrubbing at the black rock dust that he knew covered him. "We better find fresh water."

"What if we went the wrong direction?"

"Then we are stuck here. What? You wanted to hear me say it out loud."

"I guess so." She tried to smile. "I think we should wait to see if there is another rock slide. Maybe it will open up another fissure like it did before and we can get back to Sirius."

"Two days back with no water? More like three since half the path is gone and we don't even know if the shore line is passable. Wait here. I want to try something."

He left her sitting in the tall dried grass where the sand gave way to the firmer land and jogged back to the ocean. After several minutes, he came back with a sheepish grin.

"Nothing, I was hoping to find something to eat. I thought maybe clams…or even seaweed. I've eaten that before."

"We should keep going. If we were home I'd say those were storm clouds coming in." She licked her parched lips and swallowed hard.

"Come on," he agreed. "We can find something to trap water in. A good storm may be just what we need."

Running up the higher ground, they continued on following the shore, rounding yet another bend in the shoreline they encountered a scene not unlike the one they thought they had left behind. Spinning in a circle Hermione could only see the towering cliffs behind and in front of them, the sea to the north and the plain they had seen from above to the south.

"Fuck," Ron said dully, putting her thoughts into a single word.

"My sentiments exactly." She pursed her lips together and began to walk toward the burial mounds. "Do you have any thing to cut with?"

"Not on me, but the shale around here is sharp enough."

"Cut off one of my trouser legs, we can use it to catch water." She began to tug down her trousers, lifting only one leg out. "Ron, why didn't you wear dragon hide? With every thing else gone we could use more."

"If I had known we would be cutting it up I would have…" He stopped suddenly and smirked. "You now have a tee, trousers with one leg, and a pair of mangled boots. If we hadn't shrunk the tarp at least you…"

"How was I to know?"

"I said we. I'm not blaming you."

"Fine. Anyway, if you were so worried about me, why didn't you wear dragon hide?"

"It doesn't matter," he said, avoiding her eyes as he cut and ripped the fabric, opening the side seam.

"You must have paid a bloody…oh," she muttered, seeing his discomfort in the way he hunched his shoulders over his work. "Ron, you should have told me. I would have helped with the cost. I didn't realise how much I put on your list. Ginny once said a pair of boots alone cost a month's pay when she bought some for Harry and he makes more than you."

"It's too late to worry about now," he said flatly, shoving the cutting tool he had fashioned into his pocket. "Here, if it rains lay this out on the ground, prop the edges up. It may hold a few mouthfuls."

"I keep thinking about the cheese and bread we left on the ledge," she admitted. "Keep on the lookout of something edible."

They walked onto the plain, staying as far to the side as they could, Ron's eyes searching for any sign of the river that had been clearly visible from above. Hermione watched the ground, occasionally glancing at dried brush that clustered around the piles of stones, unwilling to get too close. She heard Ron's shout and looked to where he pointed, seeing a thin line of darker grass.

"It will be there," he announced.

"Do you think it's safe?"

"We don't have much choice." Ron stopped and dug in his pockets. "Fuck, Mara must have emptied my pockets when she cleaned my clothes. I had water purification tablets."

The stench of the creek reached them before they could see it. Even in the semi-darkness, it was obvious that it was undrinkable and seeing it, they both became more keenly aware of their thirst. Finding the narrowest place, they were able to jump to the other side, avoiding even its touch. They walked silently; keeping their eyes on the dark woods ahead of them both thinking of what they would find.

Hermione bent down and picked up a piece of shale slightly larger than the palm of her hand, and another smaller piece that she used to chip the first into a point. Tucking it into her waistband she picked up as many small pieces as her pockets could hold. Seeing Ronald's questioning look she shrugged.

"I used to be pretty good with a sling shot. Don't look at me like that. Us Muggle kids didn't sit in front of the telle all day watching Stargate. I can ride a bike, play video games and drive a car as well as…"

"I want to hear more about the sling. Somehow I can't see you taking down a rabbit."

"No, but I could take down a pigeon. My mum still hung out the laundry and the dirty things would sit on the line and shite on her clean sheets."

"How are they, Mione? I haven't seen them for a year."

"Oh, fine I guess. I haven't spent much time with them, only a few minutes now and then."

"How'd they take the divorce?"

"Dad… not so good, Mum worse. He acted as if I was such a disappointment. That it was all my fault."

"I could talk to him. If you think it would help."

"What? And air our problems to my parents? No, I …"

"Give me some credit," Ronald sighed. "I always liked your folks. They were always decent to me, even if they never understood what I was talking about."

"I think that's why they were so upset that we split. They are worried they won't get to see you anymore."

"We better get a move on. I want to be out of this damned grave yard before it gets darker." Ronald changed the topic quickly.

"Keep to the edge of the forest, maybe we can…"

"No, we head down the middle." Ronald said decisively. "If someone is out there that wants us they will have to face us in the open."

Having no choice Hermione followed his lead ad they began their walk across the plain littered with burial mounds that still held the smell of smoke. She began to lag behind, forcing Ronald to stop, as she repeatedly slowed and sat down to rest.

"We have to keep going. I know it's hard."

"I just can't." She looked up from the place on the ground. "Give me a few minutes."

He sat down heavily and studied her face, suddenly reaching out and laying his hand on her cheek. "You are burning up."

"It's nothing." She swatted his hand away.

"Right," he said tersely. "How long has this been going on?"

"I noticed it last night," she admitted. "It's nothing, and it's not like you can do anything about it."

"Let me see your arms." He yanked her hands to him, lifting them and inspecting her skin for any lesions. "Turn."

"No," she pouted. "I was bit."

"When?" Ronald snapped his eyes up to her face.

"Last night, there was nothing we could do about it."She sat on her hip and pointed to the back of her thigh where an ugly red welt had risen. "It felt more like a sting…nothing big."

"Here every thing could be big," he grumbled. "You saw the water, anything that touched it and landed on you …sorry."

"I don't think it's the fever. I 'm just knackered and thirsty as bloody hell," she sighed looking to the end of the plain. "Ron, why don't you go on ahead and see if we are wasting our time. I'm just slowing you down."

"I'm not leaving you out here by yourself."

"You go on." She said firmly. "I can make my way or if you find clean water you can come back."

"I said no." He stood and reached down a hand to her. "We both go or we both stay."

"We can't stay here."

"Exactly. If we find somewhere that offers some cover I will scout around, but not until then."

It was nearly night when the reached the end of the plain and collapsed under a canopy of dead tree branches. Hermione rolled onto her back and looked up to the sky, too exhausted to move as Ronald lay down with her, using her stomach for a pillow.

"Give me a minute," he sighed. "I'll go ahead and see if anything looks promising if you don't move from here. I don't need to be loosing you out here."

"Ron, I don't have the energy to sit up let alone run off."

"Good." He lay still for a few minutes only t sit up and study her face. "You look like shite."

"Thanks." She grinned. "And you stink."

"I mean it. Let me see that leg."

She rolled over on her stomach exposing the bite mark to him as she rested her head on her arms and sighed loudly. "How much farther? Sorry. I just want to hear someone say we are almost there. Remember when you were a kid…and it seemed like ever to get where you were going? And you kept asking over and over until your folks got angry?"

"We are almost there," he said flatly, seeing the area round the bite now a deep purple, angry lines running down her leg, knowing this was not a simple insect bite. "You stay here and rest, I am going to the end of this patch of woods and see if there is anything up ahead."

"It's okay, just sore…I must have picked up an infection. The blister was on the same leg. You go. I'm going to sleep."

Hermione woke slowly, aware of the burning on the back of her leg and the sweat pouring off her body. Fuck, she moaned, as she rolled to her back and struggled to sit up. Ronald still had not returned, and although she had no way of knowing how much time had past, she felt uneasy with his absence. She stood and gingerly put weight on her leg, testing its strength and finding it impossible to flex her thigh. Twisting around until she could see the bite, she was horrified to find a large festering sore.

She touched the area lightly, hissing at the pain and pressure form the wound that travelled though her whole body. Digging in her pocket, she found one of the sharpened pieces of shale and with a quick jab opened the wound, letting the pus and blood run unchecked down her leg. She fell to one knee, taking in huge gulps of air, waiting of the initial pain to pass, soon able to stand again. Although she could still feel the burning infection it no longer felt s if her leg was ready t explode. Ripping the bottom half of her tee, she fashioned a bandage, pulled it tight around her leg, and at last felt some relief.

She set off in the direction Ronald had gone, forcing herself to walk without a limp, forcing her leg to work. She had not gone far when she heard laughter and male voices. Dropping to her knees, she crawled closer. Needing to make sure Ronald was safe before rushing ahead, thinking of how Harry had been taken unaware.

There was a fire, fed by the dead tree branches. A man was sitting, swilling down what looked like mead as two Red Caps did his bidding. Hermione had only heard of Red Caps in relationship to their ferocity and unwillingness to work with man, and now puzzled how these two seemed willing to not only work with, but to take orders from the man that seemed too drunk to stand.

Flattening to the ground, she waited until her eyes adjusted to the light around the fire, and searched the clearing, slapping her hand over her mouth at the sight of Ronald, bound and gagged on the far side of the fire. Furiously she searched for another man, knowing there must be at least two from the laughter she had heard.

Digging in her remaining pocket, she pulled out the sharpened stone and hefted it in her hand. It was light, too light and too short to be of much use to her and the place she was hiding did not afford her a clear shot with her sling. In order to use the sharpened stone she would have to be too close, within an arm's length, close enough to be stopped. Squatting down and watching Ronald, she looked back at the man and saw a small silver dagger at his feet and an oddly shaped axe resting next to him.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. If she could get behind Ronald, sneak in unseen, she may be able to cut the ropes. If she were found, she knew the knife would be out of her reach and find its way to her throat. Even from her place in the dark under growth she could see Ronald's nostrils flare, trying to suck in enough air to breath. She saw his face bulging and red from the rope that snaked around his neck, holding him too tightly to let him so much as shake his head or take a deep breath.

Hermione started to skirt around the clearing, staying low to the ground and keeping to the shadows. She figured she would only get one chance and if she missed it, all her plans, and perhaps their lives would be forfeit. No longer confident that there was a way out of this forsaken place, she only wanted to get to Ron. With one more glance at him, she lowered to a crouch and started, knowing if she did not get to him soon he would suffocate.

Opening her mouth to breath, she silently made her way, keeping as far into the forest as she could and still see the circle of light thrown off by the fire. Her foot snapped a twig, sending a sharp retort echoing into the clearing. Hermione froze. _Fuck,_ she thought as a hand wound in her hair and pulled her up so quickly her homemade weapon fell from her hands.

She was propelled face first into a thick tree trunk, slamming the side of her face against the rough bark and leaving her to slide to the ground cut and bleeding. She instinctively began to crawl as a well-placed boot landed in the middle of her stomach, pushing her up and over onto her back.

"Bastard!" She hissed reaching for the silver handle, barely visible among the debris on the ground, only to feel a boot stomp down on her forearm.

"Now," he said with a leer, couching down and yanking her head up by her short-cropped hair, "who do we have here?"

"None of your fucking business!" She punctuated her statement by spitting a gob of blood and mucus into his face.

He stood, dragging her by the hair into the middle of the clearing, Hermione trying to pry his hand from her hair at the same time she fought to gain her footing, he legs kicking out as she skittered to keep up. Once they neared the fire, he flung her to the ground, and again kicked her in the side, the toe of his boot catching her at the base of her ribs, eliciting a cry of pain.

"Any more out there?" Karl asked.

"Nah." Peter turned and spat on the ground. "Just her. Must be with the other one. Two in one day. How about that? Ain't done a bloke for a while but he's going to have to wait now. This one is ripe."

He laughed and crossed the clearing, picked up canteen and slowly walked back to where Hermione lay, fending off Karl's foot as he kept kicking at her, causing her to crawl backwards toward the fire.

"Hold her," Peter yelled, as he emptied the canteen of water on her face, washing off the caked mud and blood. 'Want to see what I'm getting."

He fell to his knees and nodded to Karl. "Hold her shoulders down." Crawling between her legs, he sat back on his knees and began to unbutton his trousers.

Hermione twisted to her side, raised her knees and kicked as hard as she could, biting at the hands that held her at the same time. Sinking her teeth in his soft flesh, she felt him let go and she managed to roll over to her stomach and get to her knees.

"Leave me alone you son of a bitch," she spat as she tried to stand and vainly searched the ground for the knife or anything she could pick up and use. Peter was behind her, on his knees, his arm around her neck as he pulled at her waistband.

"We'll see how much fight you have left when we get done with you bitch!"

Hermione lowered her head and waited until she heard the zipper on his trousers. Taking deep breaths, she fought to remain still as she raised her eyes, looking up from under her brows at Ron. She saw him stain against the bindings, the vein in his forehead standing out in stark relieve against his face that was beginning to take on a whitish cast. Hermione locked her eyes on his and waited, wishing away his tears of anger and frustration.

"Get me that damned knife. I'll cut the bitches clothes of. Fucking dragon hide won't rip."

Hermione took a deep breath and lowered her head, leaned her body back on her knees and pushed against his erect penis, soliciting a laugh as he began to rub against her. Fisting her hands into the dry soil, she waited and at the last possible moment brought her head back as fast and hard as she could. Head butting his face she heard a sickening crunch and his yelp of pain as he sat back on his heels grabbing his nose.

Without hesitating, she threw her body forward and rolled to her back, throwing handfuls of dirt into his face as she brought up her right leg, kicking him in his already broken nose as her left foot found his groin. Hearing Peter's thunderous rage she kept rolling to the side, pulling the cut trouser leg they had fashioned to hold water out of her waistband, wrapping it around her hand as she did, and thrust it into the fire. Grasping a piece of burning wood, her hand wrapped in the impervious dragon hide, she spun to face her adversaries.

"One step and I set your arse on fire," she hissed, backing up toward Ron, waving the flaming torch in front of her. "Ron? Ron…please, hang in there….try to breathe…gods. Just don't die on me now."

She saw Karl run back to their supplies and rummage around, knowing he was looking for a weapon, she stepped forward, putting the tip of the flaming wood to the ground and setting the floor of the clearing on fire. Without losing a second, she spun back to Ronald and began hacking at the ropes, first releasing his hands and then working on his legs as he pulled the bindings from around his throat.

"Hermione! Watch out!" He gasped, looking over her shoulder.

She turned in time to see one of the Red Caps step through the fire and raise its blade, beginning to bring it down in a circular arc. Pushing Ronald back, she tried to stand over him, to give him time to unravel the rest of the ropes, but moved too slow and felt the crippling blow as the steel blade hit bone. Crumbling on the ground, she heard Karl's laughter.

"Ah, less work for me. Although I still plan to have my fun with her before I have her for dinner. Haven't had fresh meat in a while."

"Mione," Ronald gasped, rolling her over and pulling her to his chest, as he pushed his hand against the open gaping cut on her thigh, looking into her blank eyes. "Mione!"

"Ah what's the matter?" Karl laughed. "Think she's going to answer you?" He strode over and pulled her off Ronald as Peter grabbed Ronald's hair, holding him back.

Throwing her on the ground and unbuckling his trousers, Karl spat on her face. "She's not going to fight this time."

As Ronald threw himself at Peter's back with a growl, the clearing was hit by a sudden light, white and glaring. Ron squinted into the centre of the beam, using the element of surprise to push Karl away and try to reach Hermione. Two black clad legs stepped between him and his destination, a swirl of back cloth cutting the night as magic blasted into Karl and Peter, throwing them across the burning clearing and the Red Caps hissed, disappearing into the darkness. Ron, his eyes still on Hermione's still form, began to crawl forward.

"Leave her, she's dying." A silky voice cut the night. "If you want to live I suggest you get off your arse and come with me."

Ronald snapped his head up and stared into the face of a man he recognized. "Snape?"

Severus spun on his heel and locked his eyes on him, then turned slowly back to the woman who lay on the ground.

"Get her out of here," Ronald hissed. "It's Granger. Leave me, just take care of her."

"How…?" Snape spun back to Ronald, his face showing shock and disbelief, his voice choked with utter bewilderment. "I cannot carry both of you."

"Take her, she…hurry…she's bleeding out. I don't have magic…help her. You have to save her."

Snape went down on one knee, quickly casting healing spells, closing the ripped muscle and staunching the blood loss. "It may not be enough."

He hoisted her up, draping her over his shoulder and without a backward glance at Ronald, lifted his arm as he muttered an incantation and flew off into the night.

Ronald could not take the time to wonder about what had just happened. Picking up the axe dropped by the Red Cap after he had struck Hermione down, he turned and hacked at creature, making sure it was dead before turning to the two men that lay cowing on the ground. In one stroke, he cleaved Peter's head, separating it from his body and spun on Karl. Seeing movement from the corner of his eye, he saw Peter's body twitch and wither as if trying to regain its feet.

"Fucking idiot," Karl laughed. "He was dead already."

Ronald stumbled back, the horror of the withering corpse bringing the taste of bile to his mouth. Grabbing the end of the torch Hermione had used, swinging it in front of him, he jabbed at Karl's clothes. He began to step forward, knowing retreat was not an option, almost laughing as the thought of telling Hermione to control the ranks and files flashed in his mind. He had to attack if he was to drive this thing, this creature, away. He tore his mind off Hermione and found himself strangely calm as he turned to a clutch of Inferi that began to slither toward him from the darkness.

Holding the torch with one hand, he hefted Red Cap's the axe with the other, holding it menacingly over the heads of the white bloated creatures as he jabbed the flame at them again and again, driving them back. Hearing footfalls, he stepped to the side and saw two more Red Coats enter the clearing. Dropping the flame, he grasped the battle-axe with both arms, bringing it up in an arc and letting its own weight pull it down and sink into one of the creatures neck at the point it met the shoulder, slicing it in nearly in two.

Using one foot to hold the dead creature still he yanked the axe out of the soft flesh and began to circle the remaining Red Cap. Suddenly, another set of boots touched down next to him, staying behind him, quietly matching his steps as if guarding his back. He felt Snape's magic and saw his hand reach for the torch. He pushed forward, swinging the axe and hearing Snape's soft voice call out incantations.

"Well done," Snape muttered, when the Inferi turned away and Red Caps no longer streamed into the clearing. "They will be back."

"Hermione?" Ronald gasped, going down on one knee as he trying to catch his breath.

Snape looked down at him coldly and shrugged his shoulders. "She was alive when I left her."

"Left her where?"Ronald looked up at him angrily.

"Does in matter?"

"No, I…no," he said shakily, struggling to stand.

Snape brushed off his robes and studied Ronald before reaching down a hand. He schooled his face to show no emotion at the visible evidence of how long he had been trapped in this place in front of him in the guise of an adult Ronald Weasley. "If you don't want to do this again I suggest we leave. If they come back they will not be as unprepared."


	13. The Lair

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

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**The Chasm**

**Chapter 11**

**The Lair**

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Snape set Ronald down then spun on his heel. "This way. Quickly."

"Where the fuck…"

"Do you want to stand out here and talk?"

Ronald swallowed hard, and glanced behind him, seeing only dark rock and a sky turning darker. He rushed after Snape entering a large and elegantly furnished manor house and all but ran down the hall to keep up with him.

"Slow down! What the bloody hell is going on here?"

"She is in here," Snape said coldly, opening one of the many doors and standing to the side. "I have done what I can for now. You will excuse me, I am afraid I have to finish what you so foolishly started. We will talk later. I am sure we both have questions that need answering."

"Snape…those men…what the fuck was that? How could they have been dead already? Are you one of them…one of those…those dead…"

"Karl Grobmann and Peter Kurten, two of the Dark Lord's favourite...Koschei, for lack of a better term. He allowed them their minds as in life they were more dangerous then any other in death," Snapes lip curled in distaste. "It is better that Miss Granger fell to the Red Cap then to become their next victim. There are others…many others… that would take her and her sanity with her. As for myself, I died when I took that infernal mark. However, since I still breathe you are quite safe."

Snape nodded to the room beyond the door, then turned on his heel, continuing to a flight of steps at the end of the passageway that only led down.

"Oh no you don't." A dark haired witch pushed Ronald roughly back into the hallway, glaring at Snape's back as he strode away. "I can smell what you've been up to. Those foul creatures carry every kind of disease and pestilence. End of the hall. Shower…twice…and make sure you get under your fingernails and everyplace you cannot see unless you want to be infected like her. Took me over an hour to clean her and I won't have you tromping your filth in here."

"How is she?" He managed to croak out from parched and cracked lips.

"Alive. Wait," she walked back into the room and came back with a container of water. "Drink this. Slow now…you'll go vomiting it back up if not. The bath water is safe enough but we still don't drink it. Take that with you."

"Yeah, well thanks," Ronald tipped up the water to his mouth greedily, forcing himself to stop after only a few mouthfuls.

"Good. Once you shower, don't touch it again. If you are carrying anything on your hands, it's contaminated now. Leave it on the floor in the shower. I'll bring down clean things and some potions for you to take."

"Sure," he nodded, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. "Sorry, that was a bad idea."

"At least you can learn. Too bad it takes so long." She shook her head and looked at him, making him feel like his mother had just caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. "Now go and make sure you wash your bloody mouth with disinfectant. I don't give a damn what it tastes like and if you don't do it I will do it for you."

She turned back to check on Hermione before gong to Snape's quarters and rummaging around for something to fit Ronald, so anxious and excited to have someone else in this cursed place that her hands trembled. Although the two wizards were the same height, she judged Ronald broader across the shoulders and wider in the chest. Quickly flipping through the shirts and waistcoats they had found in the manor she at last came to a couple of jumpers at the bottom of the stack. Grabbing them and two pairs of trousers Snape never wore she laid them over her arm and started down to the bath. Finding a pair of lace up boots she hoped would fit him. She started back, stopping at the medicine cupboard to collect an antibiotic, a pepper up and a pain reliever.

Slipping into the shower room, she laid out the clean clothes on the sink counter and removed his tattered khakis and boots, using a flannel to protect her hand from touching them as she slid them into a bag that she would later drop into a trash bin. She sighed and fell to her knees and began scrubbing the floor with a disinfectant Severus had insisted be kept in each bath, knowing that if Ronald stepped out of the shower back onto the dirty floor he would have to start over.

"Blimey," Ron gasped as he pulled the shower curtain open, ducking back around the edge to hide his nakedness. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Stay in there until I'm done," she grumbled not looking up. "I said shower twice, now do as you are told, and I better hear you gargling. If I were interested in what you have between your legs, I would have pulled back the curtain myself and looked. " She smirked and sat back on her heels, knowing that he would soon be done. "When you are out you need to go to my room and grab my robe. Two floors up, third door on the right. I have to shower down next after touching this filth."

"Yeah," he sputtered. "You think this is a little overkill?"

"Inferi carry infection. Imagine a dead corpse walking through your house and sleeping in your bed. That should give you an idea of what just happened, only worse. Now it's all over me."

"Snape should have said something before we came in. What about Hermione? And how the fuck did you two get here…for that matter where is here?"

"She's clean now, too late though. As soon as that sword hit her she was infected, only looks like something got her before that."

"Snape?"

"He'll have to do the same as you're doing. Only he cleans his own floor and uses the shower in the lower levels. Now hurry along, we don't want her waking and us up here. If you want your questions answered you best do as you are told."

Ronald pulled the edge of the curtain back and looked hard at her. "It's you! You…you held a knife on us!"

She looked up and saw him glaring down at her. "You must be the smart one, only took you an hour to figure it out," she said flatly, turning back to her task of scrubbing the floor. "I thank you for the chocolate. Is that what you are waiting for?" She asked with obvious amusement in her voice. "Now, wash."

Hermione dreamt of falling walls, bloodied bodies and curses hitting their marks with green lights splashing death behind her. She dreamt of Ronald, seeing him lay down his wand and smile at her as he turned to walk away, a soft voice calling his name on her answering machine as she spun in an unending circle. She frowned, and tried to roll over, as pain sent spasms through her body. A heavy cold weight lay on her forehead, and raising her hand she tried to push it way, lashing out to strike what was looming over her and the sound of her rendering clothes. She screamed out, hearing Karl and Peter's lecherous laugh as she felt their hands ripping at her waistband and watched two children fall into a void, crushed under a giant stone as the leering face of Greyback replaced Harry's and flittered on the inside of her lids. She screamed out for Ronald, telling him to run, to run from Voldemort and saw him in the Malfoy's dungeon and could hear Bellatrix's laughter. Above all else she could smell rotting flesh and rank water.

"She is hallucinating, all her memories getting mixed up inside her head," Constance said calmly, seeing him wince as Hermione shouted out in response to her memory of the message on the answering machine. "Maybe you should leave until she comes to her senses. All her talk…it is just her dreams and nightmares."

Ronald clenched his jaw and continued to bathe her with the basin of lukewarm water Constance had brought him. "The fever started yesterday. If you hadn't taken our supplies…"

"Fool, you still couldn't have enlarged them and she needs potions you didn't have. Snape will brew more when he gets back, it will break the fever for now."

"If it doesn't?" Ron said quietly. "You'll get her out of here, right? You can get her to St. Mungos'?"

"Surely you don't think we stay here from choice?" She looked at him incredulously. "If the potion doesn't work she dies."

"She will not die." Severus' voice filled the room as he swept in the doorway. "You were a fool not to treat the bite at once. You should have cut it out if you had to. She was already in a weakened state when she decided to fight. Now we are fighting both infections, whatever bit her plus the infection that set up from the Red Caps' axe, as well as the injury its self."

Ronald moved to the edge of the bed, lifted up Hermione, positioning her head to loll back and accept the potion Snape held in his hand. "I didn't know about it until it was too late. Bloody hell, what kind of things crawl around in here that could do this?"

"It is not the what but the where, Mr. Weasley," Severus sneered, grasping Hermione's cheeks and forcing her mouth open, pouring in the potion as Ronald massaged her throat. "The smallest scrape can take a life in this infernal place. From what I see she already had a lesion on her leg, it could have set up the infection we see. Lay her on her stomach."

"It won't heal," Constance pushed Ronald aside and exposed the wound inflicted by the Red Cap's blade. "Hit clean down to the bone. The bleeding stopped but the flesh isn't knitting. It looks like it is necrotising, if we want to save the leg we have to do something before it spreads."

"Mr. Weasley, you will want to step outside," Severus said calmly as he levitated surgeon's tools closer to the bed. "We have to open the wound and try to clean out the dead tissue. I am afraid…"

"No …" Ronald said evenly, eyeing the scalpels. "I'll stay right where I am, and it was a blister…a ruddy blister is all."

"As I said, nothing is a simple injury here. Even a blister or a prick to your finger can take a life if broken skin is open to airborne contaminates. Mr. Weasley, the longer we talk the sicker she will become."

"First, I want to know why you are not using magic."

Severus raised his head slowly and studied his face. "I am not a Healer. If you would prefer to wait for one, I will be glad to step aside. Perhaps you have a way of contacting the hospital that I do not. No? Then you may hold the lamp so I can see what I am doing."

It was a week before Hermione could sit up and recognize where she was, separating the dreams from reality. She had smiled weakly as her eyes had first fluttered open to see Ronald's head resting on the mattress, his shock of red hair against the white of the sheets. Entwining her hand amongst his curls, she had slid back to sleep before he had time to register that she had woken. With his touch, her dreams became fleeting, the disjointed faces less disconcerting and the children no longer crushed and dead but running toward Harry across a pasture of sweet grass and gentle breezes.

"She's ready to move," Constance assured Ronald. "Severus wanted to keep her out of it until that leg was on the mend. He says she wouldn't stay in bed unless he did."

"Yeah," Ronald felt the corner of his mouth turn up, "he knows her well. She would have given every one orders on how to change the dressings."

"He's going to wake her and increase her feedings." Constance sat on the foot of the bed and looked at Hermione. "She needs to eat more then a few swallows of broth now and then and you need to get out of this room more then to run to the loo and an hour now and then to see Snape. He is sending up a tray every couple of hours. We can take turns forcing it down…maybe the extra nutrients will help her heal."

"No, I'll make sure she …."

"This isn't a contest," Constance shook her head slowly. "You need to sleep as well and I haven't seen you eat a full meal yet. You need to get in a real bed, not sleeping sitting up. If what Snape says is true and you plan on trying to get back you should be building up your energy. Anyway, it's been years since I have felt useful, I don't mind."

"How do you do it? I understand the tinned foods but how do you manage fresh produce? Snape took me down to the storage rooms the other day, bloody hell…who ever set this place up must have planned for a siege."

"The lower levels have cold frames set up, lights and all. The…the previous tenant had a generator brought in for the electricity." She looked at his face and started to laugh. "I know. If Snape hadn't known what it was, we would have starved to death. Good thing he was Muggle born. When I went to school, I didn't even take Muggle studies. Bloody hell, he had to show me how to turn on a switch and plug in a fucking lamp."

"You tried to kill us." Ronald reminded her.

"I don't _try_ to kill anyone. If I wanted you dead you would have been." She shrugged and reached down to pull Hermione's blanket tighter. "I didn't know who you were…or even if you were alive. It's hard to tell in here. You three of you are the first real people I'd seen since we came. You'll have to learn to see the difference."

"I don't plan on learning. I plan on getting the fuck out."

"He says he wants to talk."

"The Lord requests my…"

"Joking like that can get your throat slit. Do not underestimate him," she hissed. "Remember who you speak of."

"Sorry, I…fuck," he muttered, raking his hand through his hair. "It's been a week. It's about time we talk about more then where to find a tin of soup. Listen… I meant nothing by it…the Lord comment…I didn't mean it. I've known since the last battle that he wasn't what we all thought."

"I'll tell him you are free," she said frowning, not wanting to talk about what had happened all those years ago. "She should have her potions now anyway. They will keep her sleeping until Snape can see her again."

Ronald found his way to the study and politely knocked on the door, still surprised that they went through the motions of civilized living.

"Mr. Weasley, please," Severus indicated a chair across from his desk and smirked when Ronald purposely took one of two wingback chairs that flanked the fireplace. "Before we go any further I want you to look at a chart of gates and tell me about the ones you have used."

"I may ask the same of you," Ronald said coldly.

"Yes and when we are done playing games we can open the doors and invite in the Inferi. As it is, I expect them shortly."

"What are you talking about Snape? This place is a bloody fortress."

"Whose main defence is fear and loathing of the unknown. However, the more contact we have with the creatures of this place, the less fearful they are and the more they are willing to attack us. I am afraid that after your recent foray in the forest they have learned that mere mortals live here. Now, it is only a mater of time. It seems your Miss Granger bled real blood. They smelled it and found they want more."

"Before we keep playing cat and mouse I need to know how you got here." Ron sat forward leaning his arms on his legs and looking up under his brows. "You can start by telling me where the fuck we are."

"I am surprised. Even a Weasley should recognise our surroundings. Is it really that hard to figure out?"

"I know you didn't build this place. You wouldn't have used Muggle inventions such as the generator, or the lamps."

"Perhaps. Perhaps if I had need for others that did not use wandless magic I would have thought to make the place liveable for them in my absence while they prepared for me."

"You wouldn't do that. You don't think you need anyone."

"Think, Mr. Weasley. The darkness, the Inferi, the…the trapping of dead souls, who do you know that is known by his…dark tastes?"

"Voldemort."

"Well done, I was sure you would get there."

"So, the snake, Nagini, she …bloody hell man, we saw you die. Harry went back to haul you into the Great Hall and you were gone."

"Not all is as it seems."

"I need to know how you got in here. We need to find a way out before Hermione…" Ronald swallowed, looking up at Snape's face, feeling like an idiot on the verge of tears.

Severus studied his face and with a curt nod joined him by the fire. They talked long into the night, Snape taking time to light the torches, taking Ronald with him and showing him the procedure for opening the valves to adjust the flow of gas, and how to adjust the wick. He made a point to demonstrate that the layer of light sand he had laid between the torches and the manor, which would clearly show any footprints, indicting the further encroachment of the creatures that lived in this world.

Ronald understood Snape was telling him the work that needed to be done every day in case he and Hermione could not leave. He saw the water purification system, the generator, every window and door and learned which ones were not only nailed shut but warded against intrusion.

"How long do you estimate the supplies will last," Ronald asked as they returned to the study.

"I will have to reconsider the daily rations," Snape said stiffly. "We no longer have fresh fish, not for some time now. I am sure you saw the creek on your way in, and the additional demand of yourself and Miss Granger will cut into our stores. Water, however, is not a problem as you know."

"How long," Ronald said frowning.

"Miss Granger will be moved up stairs. It is not safe any longer to be on the ground level at night. I also would prefer you and her to take rooms in the opposite wing from Mrs. Mulciber and myself. There is no point in all four of us meeting with unwelcomed intruders if the wards are breeched."

"I asked you a question."

"The food will long outlast the fuel."

"And without the fuel?"

Snape smirked and walked to the liquor cabinet, pouring two drinks and handing one to Ronald. "Without fuel you will wish you had starved to death. There are however, a few cases of whiskey in lowest level that may make the end quicker or at least more interesting."

"How much fuel is left? Since it doesn't matter on the number of people in residence it should be a simple answer."

Severus studied his face then leaned back in his chair. "A month. Perhaps a little more, if we conserve and only have cold food. As it is I have already disconnected the heating system."

"Do you have a map…something that can get us out of here?"

"Perhaps," Snape said looking over the rim of his glass. "I spent many years trying to discover the key only to find it belongs to a lock I am unable to open. You see, Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Mulciber and I came to be here, as I explained, in a much different way than did you. We can only leave if called, and that, as you are aware is quite impossible since there is no one on the other side with the ability or indeed, the other half of our own mark. Although we are as free to move about, as much as you are free to move from place to place, we will not be allowed to leave."

"I take it she wears the mark also."

"Yes, Mr. Weasley." He set his glass down and scowled at Ronald. "I have a proposition to make you. One that will insure you and yours will be comfortable for a long time. As you know, my estate is not settled. Until I either return or inform my solicitors otherwise, it is mine for another two years. Since I have no chance of leaving here, I will transfer it to you. One and only one condition applies."

"And that is?"

"Mrs. Mulciber means…much to me. I want to see her safely out of here."

"You just said she…"

"I have a spell that when used with a certain potion will transfer her mark to my arm. It hardly matters if I have one or two, as long as she is free."

"What does she think of this idea?"

"She has no knowledge of it, nor will she until it is time for her to leave," Snape said, his face darkening. "She has given up the last ten years of her life for me, that is enough. Without magic, she would not be able to make it. However, with you she stands a chance. One she should take."

Ronald let his gaze fall to the floor. "I'll take her, Snape. Keep your money or give it to Constance. I think she has earned it. I'll think of another payment before I leave."

"I can take you to the top of the summit. It is still open to you and Miss Granger to return through, and I am hoping it is open to one more since Potter took a different option. Now that the only way there is by air, I can drop one of you at a time. From there however, you will be on you own. You will find the instructions of what I feel is the shortest way on my desk, as well as two other possibilities if you find one any of the gates destroyed since my last observance."

"How long has it been since you've been out there? I mean, it's possible that things have changed like they changed on top of the summit here."

"I have taken the liberty of assessing Miss Granger's memories and added her knowledge to what I already have so I am quit confident on the route you must take. Once you are through the entry to this world, I will close it. At that time, you may not return, as all monoliths in the outside circles will then close. However, I will do so in the hopes that you will not be followed. There are those that will sense your presence, and my failure to accompany you as an opportunity to move on to other worlds."

"Hermione is going to…"

"She will not know until it is time. I was quite surprised to see Mr. Black in her memories. Although I knew he had fallen in during the battle at the Ministry I have not personally seen him in these past ten years."

"Then you also know of his children?"

"Yes. I also saw a witch in Miss Granger's memory."

"Mara."

"Mara?" Snape's eyes locked on Ronald. "Did you hear her refer to herself this way?"

"Umm, no, it's her name. It's what Sirius calls her, so I guess she told him."

"Māte, or rather Mara Māte. Māte meaning mother, Mara… translates here to…of all…unless you believe in gods and goddesses."

"Mother of all?"

"An old myth. The more vocal of the inhabitants here talk of her and her world. Māte Land is said to be a land of peace and bliss. The last in a quest to perfection. You can see why even the most…evil…here would find that attractive. "

"I… no…sorry."

"The last hold out against evil. The last place in this foul place where there is hope. A place a creature such as Peter Kurten would delight in defiling."

"Tell me of Mara."

"She is a myth, a myth I am sure Sirius' witch was well aware of and for whatever her reasons took on the name," Snape laughed coldly. "Once Mr. Black leaves her, she shall be alone until her world, like what you see happening around you, is also destroyed."

"I can close it? The world they are in? Like you plan on closing this one?"

"You don't know what you ask. If you do that your friend Mr. Black is likewise cut off from rescue."

"You wanted to know my price for doing what you ask. This is it. Tell me how to destroy it."

Snape nodded in agreement to the price Ronald set, and then led him to the desk where they began to plot Ronald's escape. It was near day light when Snape finally put an end to it and demanded that they all retired to their quarters upstairs. Giving Hermione another potion and warm robe, they slowly ascended to the higher level of the manor.

Snape opened up the door to one of the bedrooms and stepped back to allow Ronald to enter. "Once you are in, you will forgive me for warding the door until morning."

Ronald turned on his heel and glared at Snape. "Then you will understand why I prefer to sleep…"

"Mr. Weasley," Severus sighed tiredly. "I assure you it is for your personal protection. I cannot guarantee that theses walls will not be breeched."

"So you plan to lock me in here with no weapons?"

"No, Mr. Weasley, I plan on warding against unwelcomed weapons finding you."

"Ron," Hermione said softly, shaking her head, already tired from the short walk.

"Fine," he quipped, slamming the door in Snape's face.

"You are welcomed," Snape sneered at the door. "Miss Granger, the next room is yours. The wards will be raised in twenty minutes. If you care to commiserate with Mr. Weasley you will need to so do now."

Hermione walked to the next room and opened the door, pleased when the flick of a switch turned on the lights. _It's the little things_, she thought, walking through the room smiling, opening a door on the opposite side to find the loo with a real bathtub.

Ronald walked in the open door, pulling open the cupboard and looking under the bed, then tugged at the window to make sure it wouldn't open. He turned back and saw Hermione watching him.

"Sorry, I guess you could have done that yourself," he said, sounding guilty. "I know you hate me to do things like this."

"No, I'm glad you did," she crossed to him and laid her hand on his arm. "Stay?"

"I don't think that's a good idea," he sighed deeply.

"I don't want to be alone," she admitted, then shook her head and smiled thinly. "You're right. You should go. I am sure we are quite safe here."

He lifted her chin and studied her face. "Let me grab a pillow and blanket from my room. That chair doesn't look too bad."

"I can take the chair if you want me too. I've been laying down for over a week, I could use the sit up time. I just…I don't want to be alone...I would like you to stay."

"Are you sure?"

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "If I wasn't I wouldn't have asked. Ron? Did you hear it? He put up a silencing spell when we first came in. Your room is on the same side, did you hear it?"

"We are okay in here. Bloody hell, he's been in here for over ten years I think he knows how to keep those things are out. Quite a system he has set up here."

"Ron? Come look. Whatever are the torches for?" She stood standing at a thick-glassed window, looking out to the grounds below.

He stood behind her seeing more lights wink out and pointed to the dark figure of Snape as he adjusted each flame lower.

"He is turning them back for the daylight…if you can call it that. He says it conserves fuel. He said we had twenty minutes," Ron sighed. "Let me grab my stuff. He must sleep during the day and stay up when it is darkest."

"What did you two talk about?"

"We compared the gates…he's been to most of them. When he saw what we had found, and what Sirius told us, he said there is a way that may work."

"Hurry and get your stuff," she smiled thinly. "We only have a few minutes left and I want to hear everything he said."

Once he had collected what little he needed he let himself back in her room insisting that she take the bed. When she objected, he pushed her to the mirror in the bath, forcing her to look at herself. Her eyes met his in the mirror as he studied her face. Letting her go he pushed a chair close to the bed, sat down, propped his legs up on the mattress and leaned back his head.

"That's it," he said, eyes closed, pointing to the bed. "You rest or I'll tie you to the headboard."

He heard her giggle and opened one eye, feeling his own grin cover his face. "I mean it. You still look like shite."

"I'm tired. It's as if I can't take a full breath," she admitted, flopping on the bed. "I've been up an hour and I feel like I've run a race. One I lost."

"He told me this was Voldemort's place. That he built it as a refuge," Ron said, seeing Hermione's face register her shocked disbelief. "He didn't even know it existed. It seems only a handful of the older Death Eaters did. Yaxley, people like that. Constance overheard something at the Malfoy Manor and used it to save Snape. Guess she heard something about coming here could remove magic, but didn't hear enough to understand what it really was. It worked. It removed the magic of Nagini's venom and then the wound could heal. "

"So, do you think this is where he hid? Between the wars?"

"It's older than that. Snape thinks he used it before the first war. That Voldemort came here to plan and study the Dark Arts before he was ready to start building his army. Sort of...his head quarters. You know, the same as he used the Malfoy place during the second. His library is here and it makes sense. We were always told he was in Albania but no one ever saw him…that is before Quirrell brought him back."

I don't get it. Why? Why the supplies, the fuel, the ….everything."

"I asked him that. Seems that after how the first war ended he stocked this place in case he needed to hide again. It makes sense, if Snape is right. He said it was no secret that above all else Riddle was afraid to die. That's why he made so many Horcruxes, not for power…but out of fear. Seems Snape found something that proves Voldemort believed in a myth that one of the worlds in this place makes you immortal. If he knew that…he could have been looking for it."

"That's nonsense."

"No…no it's not. Well…maybe that it really exists is, but there is such a legend. He is going to find the book and let you see it."

"That's like what Sirius said…about Mara," she said frowning.

"Yeah, well…I think this Mara has been in here so long she went nutters."

"That sounds almost logical and something Voldemort would want to be true," Hermione said, then laughed and lay down. "Logical. If anything in here was logical, we could find our way out. Voldemort had a way."

"Voldemort ruled the mark and never wrote down how it worked. Even if we could recreate the…the tattoo…we wouldn't know how to activate it," he said yawning. "We'll finish this in the morning. I'm going to trap him and make him talk." "

Ron watched her sleep, occasionally leaning forward to touch her shoulder when her dreams made her moan aloud and call out into the dark. He thought of what Snape had shown him and wondered if it would truly work. Constance would be strong enough, but now that he sat here, he was concerned that Hermione, who was tired after climbing a flight of stairs, could not keep up the pace.

Snape said the shortest route would take him three days. Three days if she could keep up. They would have to carry water, food, weapons and Hermione's potions. He thought of the weight of threes days worth of supplies, knowing if Hermione were stronger they could leave the food behind, but in her condition she would need it for strength. He thought of how many times she had needed to stop and rest on the last day of their trek and the fact that Snape had never made the trip without magic.

He could see her collar bone through translucent skin, the way her skin stretched tautly over her cheek bones and remembered their good natured jostling over a bag of sweets before the had left. He had never seen her so thin and frail looking and wondered how she had become like this so quickly. Laying his head back, he stared at the ceiling and began to make a list, a very short list of what she would need, not able to suppress a grin when he realized Hermione would be doing the same thing if she knew what he planned.

In the morning, or rather at the end of their sleeping time, the dropping of the wards woke them. Hermione rushed to the window to look down at the grounds, seeing Severus making his rounds to turn on the torches. Ronald headed for the loo, calling out to her to look in the cupboard. Puzzled she threw open the door and found clothing where none had been the night before. Calling back to Ronald, she heard his laughter.

"I guess I am being told to bathe and shave. Everything I need is here and you have a choice of shampoos and some of that stuff you smear on your face."

"So they know you spent the night."

"Does that bother you?"

"No," Hermione sighed, "I just feel like we are living in a fish bowl here."

"Come jump in the shower while I shave and try to hack some of this hair off." Ronald eyed a pair of scissors and razor suspiciously. "I look like a wild man."

"You look good, in a rough sort of way," she said, leaning against the loo's doorframe. "I think I like it."

"You do?" He grinned, meeting her eyes in the mirror. "I've never done this without magic. You may want to give me a kiss goodbye before I slit my own throat."

"I may just do that," she said softly, lowering her gaze to the floor.

He felt his pulse pick up, recognizing something in her voice he had not heard for a long time. "Care to share a shower?"

"Ron…" she whispered looking up as he crossed over to her.

"Don't. It's okay if you don't want to." He tipped up her chin and tried to grin. "Can't blame me for trying."

She studied his face and saw the obvious pain in his eyes. Reaching up she cupped his face in her hands. "I'd like that."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"I love you."

"I know. Shave later" she said as he gathered her into his arms holding her so tightly she was at first alarmed at his passion, then melted into him, returning his kiss with as much fervour as his own, feeling a familiarity in his arms that she craved.

He kept his arms around her as he stepped away from the door, gently turned and walked her backwards toward the shower. Once there he reached around her and turned on the water, waiting until he had adjusted the temperature before dropping his boxers and tugging her already soaking nightgown over her head. Hermione pushed her knickers down, stepping out of them as they fell to the floor and Ronald fisted her hair, pulling her head back and kissing down her neck.

She knew he tried to go slow, tried to place kisses along her throat, as he knew she liked, tried to gently caress her back before he pushed her against the cold tiles and lifted one of her legs to his waist. She gasped at the suddenness that was so unlike him, so unlike him not to go slow and wait for her to signal that she was ready. Hearing him gasp out her name as she took him in, she closed her eyes and pushed her head back into the tiles as he muttered her name. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled up, lifting her hips and changing his angle, urging him to go faster, deeper, harder. She plead with him to hurry and knew he was already slipping over the edge as her finger nails dug into his back, pulling him closer, not wanting to let go. With no warning, she felt a wash of release flood over her, and called out his name in a rasp of tears and longing, feeling the stress of the last weeks leave her and realized the only thing of importance was in her arms.

"Gods," he sighed, holding her up, fighting to steady his own breath and keep his knees from buckling. "You were bloody brilliant."

"I've missed this," she whispered, turning her head just enough to kiss his neck, still breathless from her excretions. "You've always…"

"Don't say it," he said with a grin. "I know I'll live to regret saying this but quite frankly I couldn't stop. I couldn't. I needed you, Hermione. You have no idea how much I needed you."

"What I was going to say is that you always make it good." Her eyes welled with tears as he lowered her to the floor holding her until she indicated that she could stand on her own but kept his arms around her.

"It's because I love you. Always have and always will," he said simply, cupping her face and kissing her tenderly. "Now, turn around. Your hair…rather what is left of it is a mess. I plan on washing you and doing this again, only slower and not in here."

"Ron?" She reached up and laid her palm on his cheek. "Can we…try again? Try to…you know…be together? Or have we ruined everything?"

"Why do you think I told Harry I would come? Do you really think it was because I wanted you to humiliate me? Or cause me more pain than I already felt? Hermione, I am here because I thought it would give me a chance to see you again…to get you back. Of course, I want to try again. Bloody hell, it's why I am here."

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**A/N:** **Karl Grobmann (aka: Grossmann) and Peter Kurten were real serial killers of the worse kind. I have used them here, as they seemed to fit. ****Koschei is from old Slavic Mythology and mentioned by JKR as the basis of her idea for the Inferi. **


	14. The Day After

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

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**The Chasm**

**Chapter 12**

**The Day After**

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Hermione and Ronald found their way downstairs and following the smell of sausage with scrambled eggs were able to find the dinning room. Seeing breakfast set up on the sideboard, they picked up their plates and began to scoop piles of food onto them.

"How do they get eggs?" Ronald frowned, pausing before letting the yellow fluff fall onto his plate.

Hermione tasted them and grinned up at Ronald. "Powdered. Not bad though. Better then mine and I use real."

"That's not saying much." He leaned down and kissed her quickly, glancing back over his shoulder. "You make me feel like a school kid again. Let's get out of here. Bet we can make it back to our room before they get here. We can go for three…"

"Shut up and eat." She grinned before turning back to the buffet, seeing the obvious look of desire on his face and feeling her own breath quicken. "Constance said Snape is gracing us with his presence his morning and we should be here."

"He's an odd one," Ronald said, spearing a couple of fresh tomato slices and smelling them before dropping the on his plate. "He came in and helped with you and we've talked a couple of times but other than that he disappears of hours at a time."

"Seems your little talks are always behind closed doors and take a bit longer then you admit. I was talking to Constance, she's worried about it. What are you two doing in there besides discussing this …this fort?"

"I'll tell you later," he muttered.

They put their plates on the table as Snape and Constance entered the room, Snape going directly to the table, leaving Constance to fix his plate. She slid it in front of him before turning to take a seat at the opposite end of the table, avoiding Hermione's eyes.

"I take it that you have regained your appetite, Miss Granger."

"Yes," she said. "Everything tastes…"

"Mr. Weasley, since you can now concentrate on more than your lover's medical condition…"

"Wife's. " Ronald looked up under his brow. "On my _wife's_ medical condition."

"Forgive me, Mr. Weasley." Snape leisurely leaned back in his chair. "I assumed by the recent absence of a wedding ring, and hearing no objection to being shown into separate rooms, that she had recently left her husband and decided to revisit an old attraction."

"I did," Hermione admitted. "I was…or rather we were…or are…"

"We are separated," Ronald explained shortly. "Not that it is any of your business."

"But it is, Mr. Weasley. Before I allow you to head off again I have to make sure that you fully understand the term of our agreement and will not allow one element to put another in jeopardy. This does complicate the matter."

"Agreement?" Constance asked.

"We have questions of our own."Hermione interrupted, not seeing Ronald's glare. "First…why can you use magic but ours…and Constance's is gone."

"Not gone, Miss Granger, or should I say, Mrs. Weasley? Your wands are useless here. I have used wandless for years so it is not effected and Mrs. Mulciber has been able to learn some wandless as I am sure you remember."

"Why? I don't understand…"

"What core do you have? Dragon heart? Phoenix? Perhaps, the ever-popular Unicorn hair? Tell me, Mrs. Weasley, how many of these creatures have you seen in this world?"

"I see," she said, sighing deeply. "Let me guess that elder, ebony, and most of the woods used do not grow here either."

"Correct. One cannot expect a substance to channel magic when that very substance is alien to the world in which you find yourself. The elements of all wands are closely linked to the magical creatures that surround the wizard with their magic. I am sure at one time, when things actually lived here, it was different. However, dead and rotted Inferi heartstring, whereas plentiful, will hardly work. It is much the same as the dragon hide we wear as the dead skin of an animal has no effect on the world around us."

"You said you had to be sure of me," Ronald said calmly. "I think you need to explain that."

"I explain nothing," Snape sneered.

"Stop it!" Constance spat. "Or should I send in the next applicant for your fucking position? I am sure there is a long queue at the front door."

"Did you have time to memorize the instructions I gave you yesterday?" Snape changed the topic, ignoring Constance as he began to poke his fork at his plate, finally pushing it away with a look of disgust.

"Most of it, I need to go over it once more. If I could have some time alone it may go faster."

"What's going on?" Hermione looked between Snape and Ron.

"Not now, Mione," he said, turning back to Snape.

"I suggest you do so at once. It is time you left," Snape said, watching Hermione carefully. "Her infection is only being held at bay. Tell me, Mrs. Weasley, do you have difficulty breathing?"

"Some."

"There is a bacteria infection we are unable to treat here. I am afraid it is now in your lungs. You need St. Mungo's if you hope to improve. I would suggest, Mr. Weasley, that you finish your studies while the ladies get ready."

"I'll get on it now then." Ronald stood and took his plate with him, heading for Snape's office.

"Mrs. Weasley," Snape said politely as he stood, keeping his eyes on Constance. "You will excuse us. We have things to discuss. I suggest you use this time to dress in something more appropriate to travel. You will find clothing in your room."

He waited for Constance to take his arm then led her to his library, leaving the study for Ronald and Hermione on her own. He closed the door behind her and calmly informed her that she would be leaving with their guests, and of his finding that he could remove her mark and put it on his own arm. He did so quickly, giving her no chance to argue and when done, stood and looked at her coldly.

"You will need to pack. Since you will be with other who are also without magic consider your choices well. I would suggest you take no more than what you need as anything you carry will only add to your discomfort on the journey." Snape walked calmly to the liquor cabinet and took out a glass and a full bottle. "What a shame the Dark Lord did not keep a bigger stock. I am afraid his private stash will soon be gone."

"When did you plan on telling me I could leave?"

"When I no longer wanted your favours or it became unsafe for you to stay," he said, not recognising his own voice as he turned away from her. "You cannot make the trip yourself and only one of us may leave. As it was not a possibility before and as such, I saw no reason to tell you. I thought it would make it harder for you and by extension influence our life here. "

"What will you do when I am gone?" Constance asked carefully, hearing the catch in his voice and steadying her own. "You don't mean to…to stay in this forsaken place alone?"

"I plan to retire," he chuckled, sounding hollow even to his own ears. "You have accomplished your mission my dear. You…saved my life. However, I would have rather died in that shack."

"We could try…maybe one of the monoliths in that place they say Black is in…"she started, ignoring his comment.

"Stop," he said harshly.

"Severus," she crossed to him, taking his hands in hers, "don't do this. You have to try. Perhaps they saw something they didn't realize was important. You said yourself that they had no business coming here and that they don't understand what is in front of their noses. Look into their minds and…"

"Constance," he sighed wearily, the sound of her first name still alien to his tongue. "I will not allow you to stay. If I must, I will use the Impervious. Would you rather I do that or leave you with some dignity?"

"I can't, not without you…it isn't really so bad here," she whispered. "I have grown accustom to it. We want for nothing…"

"They will be here shortly. Knowing Miss Granger she is already packed what she does not need and is rechecking her lists." He yanked his hands away from her, picked up his drink and sat in a high backed chair, draping one leg elegantly over the other.

"Did you ever feel anything for me?" She asked flatly.

"You have satisfied my needs. I thank you for that. I will admit you have been most…delightful at times."

"Fuck you, Snape…fuck you to hell!" she said angrily to hide what she felt, schooling her face back into its customary cold mask.

"You have done that already. A memory I will revisit from time to time with great…longing," he smirked, nodding to the door. "Ah, your transportation waits."

"Snape," Ronald nodded to him before turning to Constance. "Hermione's spitting up blood, we need to get her a potion and then we have to get her out of here."

"Already a side effect to the potion I am afraid. There is nothing here for her. Once you are at the pinnacle you should continue at once. If you take the time to visit with Mr. Black, do so knowing she will die. Although she should have a couple of days it is never a certainty how these things progress. " Snape stood up and watched Constance drape her cape over her shoulders, studying her face and the way she refused t look at him. She strode to the door and left without looking back, her eyes welling with tears that she refused to let Snape see.

"If that is all we should be leaving," Ronald said uncomfortably. "If there was anyway you…."

"Mr. Weasley," Snape said softly, still watching the now empty door. "I am entrusting the only thing of any value I have to you. My inheritance and fortune mean nothing to me. I trust you can put aside our past difficulties and take care of her."

"I will do what I can. She loves you, you do know that."

"I only borrow people while I have use of them, much like you," Snape laughed, sipping his drink. "Whatever her misplaced feelings are, she needs to get over them."

"She needs to hear you say it," Ron grumbled. "I am not the brightest when it comes to witches but if I've learned anything it's ...damned you Snape…what will it hurt you to be decent for once in your miserable life?"

Snape shifted uncomfortably in his chair, downed his drink and stood. "I take it you have finished studying the maps since you have time to meddle in my affairs?"

"Hermione isn't sure Constance can leave with us. Since she never actually came in through a gate…like Mara can't leave."

"I take it you have already discussed our conversation with her."

"Some," he admitted. "Is she right? About Constance? I don't want to drag her three worlds away from here and leave her on her own. Because, I will, Snape. I have to get Hermione to a Healer and if Constance can't pass through, I'll leave her. So, if you aren't sure…absolutely sure she can leave…you tell me now."

"My research shows as soon as her Mark is transferred she is free. It is the Mark that holds us, unlike your Mara." He walked t the bookshelf and plucked out a thin journal, handing it to Ronald. "I, however, will be allowed to die."

"She…she…can't die? Sirius said something like that. Blimey, I thought he was nutters."

"No, Mr. Weasley, you did notice her failure to age did you not? She is trapped, trapped until this miserable place falls in on its self, the same as I, or until others manage to take my life. However, whereas I will have the luxury of death, she shall not." He turned back to the bookshelf and removed several books, opened a secret door, and pulled out a small vial. "This is the Dark Lord's final masterpiece. He had it created but never used it. His opportunity was thankfully missed, for which we should all be grateful. I kept it for Mrs. Mulciber's comfort if things ever reached the point I deemed she would find it beneficial.

Not unlike the potion that St. Mungo's uses to remove residual magic on the curse ward, this removes all magic. However, that is just a precaution. A precaution that the drinker's magic will not save them. You see, Mr. Weasley, it is a most potent poison. The only failing with the Dark Lord's plan was finding a way to distribute it.

If you are unable to find a way out, since this and Mara's world will be closed to any return, you may have use of this. I will further caution you to use it on your… wife… if she is too weak to carry on. You must trust me when I say the two she encountered in the forest are not the only two that would take their pleasure in her pain. I think you would rather see her dead than be raped by something long dead, shared by many like them and then eaten."

Ronald took the vial and watched the swirling contents moving through the glass. "What does it do?"

"In washing away the magic, it would also, to one such as Mara, allow death. In one such as you, or the witches I am entrusting to you, death will be almost instantaneous as your own natural magic will not be able to help save you nor give you enough time for someone else to intercede."

"I…I couldn't do that."

"You will find you could do no less, if the right situation occurs. It would also be a choice I believe one such as Mara would take over life in eternity. It is a choice you will make for your wife rather than see her fall into the hands of rapists and cannibals." Snape turned back to the bookshelves and began to pick out several tomes he set on the table. "These are the only copies in existence, if indeed anything here exists. Miss Granger may find a use for them if your flight from here is successful. I will however need her to oath to me that they will not be open to others."

"I will send her in," Ronald muttered, shoving the vial in his pocket. "I don't want you mentioning this to her."

Ronald found Hermione sitting in the dining room, her arms around Constance who sobbed into her shoulder. He walked up behind them and laid in hand on Constance's shoulder, getting her attention before squatting down next to her.

"He wants to see Hermione and you need to get ready. We will be leaving soon."

"He's a bastard," Constance choked, sitting up and swiping at her tears.

"If you thought that you wouldn't be sitting here crying," he said, trying to grin.

"Yes I would. He is a bastard. That son-of-a-bitch… not once in all this time…would it kill him to be nice? Just once? Would it kill him to tell me he at least cared about me? Even a little? No…not him…he hasn't said it once. Not once!"

"You talk to her," Hermione said, standing up and giving Ronald her chair. "Maybe you can make her understand."

"Why me?"

"Because," Hermione hissed, "if any man knows about not talking about feelings it is you. Maybe you can explain testosterone driven idiocy, I still don't understand it."

"Oh." He tried to smile.

Hermione hurried to see Snape, anxious to get home and knowing that until they played to Snape's timetable they were stuck.

"Come in, please." Snape sat behind his desk, a dozen odd books stacked in front of him. "These I will shrink down. I did, however, want to make certain that you fully understood what they contain."

"I can read nine languages now. I am sure I am able to decipher these."

"I am not questioning your intellect. I am questioning your common sense. These books are all dark. Very dark. They are not on how to combat the Dark Arts, nor are they mere examples of them. These are from Voldemort's personal library. As such, I will take an oath that you will protect the knowledge they contain. Am I understood?"

"Yes," she looked at the books with obvious envy.

"The oath you will take will be to Mrs. Mulciber. As I will be dead soon, I do not want the oath to die with me."

"Knock it off, Snape. Mrs. Mulciber? Don't you think it has been long enough that you could be on a first name basis?"

"How I conduct myself is not your concern." He turned on his heel to collect Constance for the oath, instructing her to join hands with Hermione and kneel in front of him. As he finished the oath, he gasped in pain, going down one knee and clawing at his arm, frantic to expose his forearm.

Hermione leaned back, catching Constance as she fell forward, crying out as she squeezed her eyes shut. "Find him…" Constance gasped, pushing Hermione away from her. "It's Ron, find him…go."

"Constance? Is it the oath?" Hermione was confused until she saw Snape in pain as well and heard Constance again tell her to find Ron.

Hermione thundered down the hallway, one hand fisted and held to her chest, as if by her sheer will she could stop her heart from jumping out of her skin and manage her ragged breath. The door to the library stood closed, locked against her. She pounded with both fists, screaming for Ronald to open the damned thing and to have the bullocks to face her.

A soft metallic click signalled the unlocking of the door and she spun to see Severus coming up behind her, his face furious, his hand raised palm out, radiating magic in front of him. As he pushed the door open, she rushed in, searching for Ronald, seeing him sitting on the edge of chair, forearms on his knees, his eyes lowered.

"Ron?" she choked.

He lifted his eyes, looking at her from under his brows, only to lower them back to the floor as he saw Snape stride in after her. She saw him wince in pain and tug on his sleeve, avoiding their eyes as his shoulders slumped.

"She's yours now," he said softly. "Get her the fuck out."

Hermione ran to him, falling on her knees, yanking his arms up and turning them over. Even in the half- dark room, she could clearly see the shape of two snakes withering together on his left forearm. Spinning her head to the desk, she saw a tablet and the empty vial of Snape's potion.

"Why? Ron…why?" she cried out, her breath ragged and tearful.

"I can't get you out of here. He can. Mione, you don't have six days, that's the fastest I could get you out, even with no problems it would take six bloody days. I've figured out every route and it won't work. He's never done it without magic, it's not three days…it's six." He looked up at Snape and then back at Hermione, raising his hand to cup her cheek. "He can apparate…he can do it in one…one. Who knows, maybe I will have enough time to read some of these books."

"Mr. Weasley you are sadly…"

"It's done," he cut off the dark wizard, keeping his eyes locked on Hermione. "You should leave at once."

"There are arrangements to make." Snape glowered.

"Shut up!" Hermione screamed. "Ron! What is happening? Why? Why did you do this? Talk to me."

"Too late," Ron lifted his head and studied Snape's face, ignoring Hermione's plea. "They breeched the west wing an hour ago. Even with your safeguards, it is only a matter of time now. You said yourself once they were beyond the water purification system it was over. That's what? A day? Maybe two?"

Constance laid a hand on Severus arm and stilled his reply, then walked to the window, looking out at the grounds. Turning back to Severus, she watched his face for some sign of emotion, surprised when he strode up to her and gathered her in his arms.

"Severus?" she pushed him back far enough to look into his face. "Will it work? Truly?"

"Yes," he breathed, pulling her against his chest and burying his face in her hair. "I had planned to take your mark as my own. I…I cannot undo this."

"I know you did, I…I told Hermione." She disentangled herself and turned back to Ronald. "Why did you do this for us?"

"Because he's stupid," Hermione screamed, swatting at Ronald's head, tears streaming down her face. "Take it back! There has to be a way to undo it! Make him take it back!"

"Mione," Ronald flinched each time her hand connected with him until he could grab her hands and trap them in his. "I can't get you up to the summit and even if Snape got us that far without magic it would take day for him to make three trips. Merlin only knows what we would find. I can't use magic. I don't have time to memorize all the possibilities and combinations that may come up if anything that we have learned fails. I can't even fight the fucking Inferi without magic. Even if we all fight, it's three against…what? Hundreds? Plus Red Caps? Without magic we are done in this world and I won't see you die."

"We can take fire, we can…"

"Not enough. He can apparate and have you out of here in hours," he stroked her face sadly, trying to grin. "Now, go get your books. I want you out of here."

"No," she sobbed, raising up on her knees and wrapping her arms around his neck. "I won't leave you, I won't. We can go together. We can walk there and then all he has to do is take us to the summit…he can."

"Walk? Merlin, have you forgotten the walk in here? And one at a time? For all three of us? Who stays back? Who waits at the bottom with the Inferi and Red Caps?"

"We can fight them, together we can fight them."

"I won't risk you. Snape?" Ronald grabbed her arms from around his neck and held them up to Severus. "Take her."

"Mrs Weasley," Severus took her gently and turned her away from Ronald, indicating that Constance should help her out of the room.

"No!" Hermione twisted back, fighting against him, rotating her arms against his thumbs until he was forced to let go, then flung herself against Ron.

"No, tell them Ron, tell him…tell him you want me to stay. We can find something…I know we can. Tell him I have to stay because I am your wife."

"Ah, Myown," Ron let his arms go around her as he felt his own eyes fill. "You've never been anything else to me, not since the first time I made love to you."

"You promised. You promised you would never leave me again. That we would be together again…you lied. You planned this. You son of a bitch…you knew…you knew this morning what you were going to do!"

Constance laid her hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Come, we have to get ready. Let them talk. The more he knows about how this house works…the…the better chance he has."

Hermione shook her head and stomped her foot. "Damn you Ronald Weasley! Damn you to hell!"

"I think that already happened," he gave her a lop-sided grin. "Now, for once do what I ask. The quicker Snape shows me how what is left of this place works the longer I have."

Ron dug in his pocket and pulled out the vial that Snape had given him earlier, only now a letter was folded and wrapped around it. "If you leave this at the entry site they will find it. Sirius said Mara looks for …gifts…things like sheep and birds that fall in occasionally. After you destroy it, put this on the broken stone, they'll find it there."

"Mr. Weasley, I did not want you to do this. I must admit that I am surprised. That said your reasoning is correct. She would have died on the third day."

"You knew from the beginning I couldn't get Hermione out?"

"Yes. I also knew that if you did not try yourself and Constance would die with me. I thought it better to have two survive than none."

"Constance is it?" Ronald smirked.

"You have earned my…my respect, Mr. Weasley. If the respect of a once Death Eater and hated professor means anything, it is yours."

Ronald held out his hand and waited until Snape took it, then firmly shook the man's hand. "Take care of her. You know you'll have to keep an eye on her or she will try to get away and make her way back."

"With your permission, I will use a simple binding spell. Nothing…obvious. One that wizards often use in the training of…dogs."

Ronald couldn't help but grin, knowing Hermione's mortification at being on the end of an invisible leash. "Tell her it was my idea. It may make the trip easier. She's going to hate me for the next few days anyway."

Snape turned and reduced more books in size, shoving them in his pockets and turned slowly, looking at the room. "The Journal I gave you earlier, it contains the names of all of Voldemort's followers, marked and unmarked. It also contains the vault numbers where he hid the money that he has stolen from the Muggles families he eliminated."

"I put it in Hermione's robes."

"There is a list of names that takes up the majority of the journal. It contains what may be the only list of those he killed prior to the first war. These would be the souls he made into his…army."

"The Inferi?"

"Yes," Snape sighed. "I only know one wizard who may have the knowledge to release their souls and allow the poor creatures rest and he hangs in a portrait at Hogwarts."

"You can reverse the spell from there?"

"Perhaps, if it is a simple matter we will be able to stop the Inferi. That will still leave you with the Red Caps and other non-dead. It will however give me the peace of mind that you will not become as they."

"It's something," Ron said frowning. "I would appreciate if you didn't tell Hermione. She doesn't need to think she should try this a year from now just because the Inferi are gone. It won't help in the end, will it?"

"No, not in this life, only in the next." Snape laid his hand on Ronald's shoulder. "I oath to you, your wife will be home by nightfall."

Ronald watched Snape and Constance on the ground beneath his window as they prepared to leave. Constance looked up to where she knew he was and lifted her hand, only to drop it quickly and wipe her eyes with the back of her hand. He was surprised at how tenderly Snape pulled her into his side as he apparated, taking her to the monolith on the crumbling ledge.

Thinking of Hermione, he smirked, knowing Snape would have her tethered close to the front entry. He knew it would serve no purpose to seek her out for these last few minutes and would just make another goodbye all the harder. Waiting until he saw Snape return and almost run into the manor he stepped back from the glass, close enough to watch, but far enough that Hermione could not see him.

Hermione was yanked out of the house, literally dragging her feet, making Snape pull her weight to the apparation point. His face was a study in controlled patience and anger, hers that of a petulant child. Ronald closed the curtains, not able to watch and turned back into the darkened room, not able to watch any longer.

Snape all but threw Hermione to the ground at the top of the abyss. Clenching his jaw, he fought not to spit out what he wanted to say to her and pushed her into the monolith. Rolling his eyes and muttering under his breath, he followed her through.

"Severus." Constance stood up and ran to him. "I was concerned when it took so long. What happened to your face?"

He turned and glared at Hermione, without responding to Constance's question, and by doing so, made it obvious that he wore Hermione's handprint.

"I have something to do," he said tersely. "You two start down to the circle. And you, Mrs. Weasley, will shut your mouth and stop ranting about things that cannot be changed."

"This is where Sirius is," Hermione said. "Why can't we bring Ron this far? At least he…"

"Stop," Snape said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We were able to pass through because we are taking the place of Potter and Weasley. Once he took on the marks he became as limited as we had been. As this world was closed to me prior to his…foolishness…it is closed to him now."

"He is not foolish! He is…"

"If he had told me what he planned on doing I would have stopped him. He has no idea…"

"Severus," Constance interrupted. "It's too late. Let it go."

He nodded and turned back to the entry, blasting it with wave after wave of magic until it toppled onto the ground. He watched Constance hold Hermione back as she fought in her arms, screaming at him to stop. Stepping up to the stone, he continued until a crack ran down the length of the rune and then began layering ward upon ward to ensure the closure held. When he was done, he reached in his pocket and put a small stack of supplies on top of the damaged stone.

Hermione stopped fighting as she saw him enlarge a set of sheets, bath soap and several tins of real tea. Seeing him add a vial with a note tied around it she looked at him strangely.

"Something I saw upon visiting your memories."

"You…how dare you. If you ever…"

"You were unconscious at the time," he intoned. "We need to keep going."

Hermione felt a tug as they walked off without her. The tug became a yank and she yelled out a curse as she was dragged along, continuing to look over her shoulder at the odd assortment that sat upon the broken stone. They travelled quickly from entry point to exit gate, Snape tethering her as he transported Constance and destroyed what monoliths he knew would lead to a gate to either Voldemort's Lair or to Sirius safe haven.

Entering the third world Hermione had to sit down and rest while Constance feed her a potion and Snape paced impatiently.

"Sit down," Constance ordered. "We haven't seen anything. We are fine."

"Because we are moving."

"We didn't run into anything until we made it to your world," Hermione reminded him, slowly standing. "Well…a cursed place…but that's it."

"And a place you foolishly thought was the real world. Brazil, was it not?"

"Okay, I get it," she sighed, looking back at the way they had come. "How much farther?"

"One more entry and you will recognize the gate to the Ministry," Severus sighed. "It should be destroyed to keep things in this world, but in doing so we too would be trapped."

"It's been eons and nothing has come through yet," Constance said.

"As the worlds die those here will try to get out," Hermione said flatly. "Ron knew that when he decided to stay, didn't he? He knows he was going to be locked in there."

"Yes, he did."

"And he knew he couldn't …I mean …he understood…right?"

"I did not trick him, Hermione. If anything I underestimated the time it would take him to make the journey," he said softly, the use of her first named causing her to search his face. "I may be a bastard but I can assure you I would not have tricked him into staying behind."

"It's my fault he came. I wanted help…I wanted to make a great discovery. I should have researched more instead of just jumping in." He voice hitched as she turned to the last gate they would need before returning to the one that would take them home.

"You saved us," Constance said softly. "If you hadn't come…we would still be in there."

"Ronald did that!" Hermione swiped at her tears and started walking toward the gate. "He saved you…and I killed him."


	15. Home

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

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**The Chasm**

**Chapter 13**

**Home**

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Hermione stumbled out into the Ministry, falling to her knees as magic washed over her. She sucked in great gulps of air, watching as first Constance and then Severus came through after her.

"Severus!" Constance stood shakily. "It worked. My gods…we make it!"

Severus quickly grasped her waist before her legs gave out. "Miss Granger?"

"I am fine…Ron said the first time was the hardest." She looked up at Snape in question.

"Not unlike the call of the mark. I am quite accustomed to it."

"They will be here in a moment." Hermione pulled herself up, brushing off her trousers and lifting her head. "You should get Constance out of here. Harry will…_**has**_ spoken for you but…I don't know what they will…"

"Too late," Constance muttered, pulling out of Snape's embrace and nodding to black lines of smoke that heralded the coming of the Aurors and other Ministry officials.

"Mione!" Harry's voice cut the air. "What…"

A palpable silence filled the chamber as Auror after Auror spun in, only a handful fully recognizing who stood in front of them, but sensing by the actions of Harry and Hermione that something was terribly wrong.

"Snape," Harry gasped, looking between him and Hermione.

"Mr Potter," Severus returned with a smirk. "My, it seems there is something other than a willing female that can render you speechless."

Harry turned to Hermione, ignoring the chuckles behind him. "Where is Sirius? And…Ron? Mione? What is going on here?"

"Sir?" One of the Junior Aurors called Harry's attention away, waving his wand toward Constance. "Her picture is on the board in the break room. That's Mulciber's widow."

"Widow? Thank goodness," Constance quipped to Hermione's amusement, soliciting laughter from some of the newer Aurors.

"It appears one problem is solved," Severus raised his eyebrow and looked at her quizzically. "The next and obvious question is what happens now, Potter. It appears my hope to return unnoticed is quickly diminishing."

"Severus!" Kingsley appeared in a mist of inky darkness and strode up to the dark wizard, slapping him on both shoulders. "I never did believe your body was lost. Even the stupidest Auror would have recognized you and taken delight in being the one to haul your dead carcass out for everyone to see. And who do we have here," he turned to Constance, "ah, yes…the one I was not supposed to know about. Percival, collect their wands then take these two to my private office and send your father down. Tell him they have returned."

"She needs a Healer," Constance said, clutching Snape's arm. "We did what we could but if she doesn't get a new potion she will…"

"Fine, fine." Kingsley waved her off.

"Yes, sir," Percival Weasley stepped up, indicting that Snape and Constance were to join him, casting a nervous look to Hermione. "My brother will be following soon?"

"Percy, I…no," Hermione said softly. "We can talk later."

"What do you mean no?" Harry demanded. "You were right behind me. Sirius made it out…he was with you and Ron."

"Mr. Potter!" Kingsley said, his voice carrying the authority of his position and cutting the chatter behind him. "Stand down, Mr. Potter. We intend to question her fully. However, this is not the place."

Hermione watched as Severus and Constance disappeared with Percy. Then seeing Harry turning angrily on his heel and taking his squad with him, she and Kingsley were suddenly alone. The Minister stood watching her closely; his hands clasped behind his back, his normally friendly face a study of controlled anger and rage.

"Do you have any idea of the problems you have caused?"

"Yes, sir," she said meekly, swallowing back tears.

"Ivan has been dismissed from his position and has been thrown out of Durmstrang in disgrace and Potter only has his position pending a full investigation at which time he may yet be terminated."

"Ivan should be proud of whom he…"

"His crime, Miss Granger, was not only insubordination but in allowing you access to restricted areas, circumventing Durmstrang's security for personal gain as well as his failure to report to his superiors the fact that he trained you in fighting methods, something they do not allow woman. Further, if he sets foot back in the UK, he will face charges for supplying a portkey to a Ministry restricted area. It is only because of the Ministry's policy of keeping this infernal room secret that I still have my position and Potter is not on his way to Azkaban. However, I suspect that to change shortly if this makes it into the Daily Prophet."

"I…I'm sorry…I didn't know… I…"

"You didn't think."

"When Harry…came back, he…he had two…"

"They are fine…now. However, the youngest…a girl I believe… spent a few days in the hospital with frostbite and hypothermia. We were lucky that Mr. Potter had a strong Patronus or we would have lost all three. They spent six hours on that wasteland with no covering."

"Hermione!" Arthur Weasley came running up the ramp to the rune. "I heard you were back. Ronald?"

"Mr. Weasley…"She started, only to have her voice crack. "He…I…"

"Hey," Arthur stepped closer and tipped her chin up. "It's always been Dad. Even after your problems you always called me Dad."

She flung her arms around him and sobbed into his neck. Spilling out the fact that Ronald had stayed back to ensure her safety. She slid to the floor in front of him, unable to keep her legs from shaking as sobs racked her body.

"Hermione? Where is Ron?" Arthur went down on one knee, forcing her head up to look at him. "When is he coming?"

"He's not," she sobbed. "He's not. He can't get out…he…"

"Get her to out of here," Kingsley said, his face darkening. "We don't need more security in here with her like this."

"Kingsley, hold on a minute…"

"Take her to your office until we get this sorted and find a Healer but tell him to keep his mouth shut about who it is," Kingsley said. "We don't need this tried in the public if it goes to court, which it will if news of this gets out."

"I'll have her write a statement. Hermione? Would you do that for me? Write down every thing that happened while it is still fresh in you mind?" Arthur asked kindly, holding back his own questions.

"I can try." She struggled to stand, glad for something to do. "I don't think I'll ever forget it though."

"We will have Snape and Mulciber do the same. Harry gave us his statement already. They just need to make sure all the stories match before you have time to talk to each other."

"I don't understand…what are you looking for?" Hermione said evenly, fighting for her composure.

"It is standard procedure. Miss Granger, you have broken the law, you and the others. We need to get to the bottom of this and make sure it will not happen again." Kingsley spoke slow and evenly. "One, you gained illegal access to this chamber. Two, you used an illegal portkey. Three, and by far the most serious, you put our entire world at risk breaking the security of this veil. I am sure you are aware to the Secrecy and Security Act. Furthermore, I will tell you this, if you are responsible for Mr. Weasley's demise there may be more charges levelled against you."

"It's not a…"

"I have spoken to Mr. Potter. If this … this research and exploration connects our world to the Muggle, our very existence is in jeopardy. What do you think may have happened if you tumbled out elsewhere? No, Miss Granger, you have quite enough to worry about without adding to it. You will do as you are told until we sort this out."

"Mr. Weasley," she said, lifting her chin, feeling Arthur's hand gently take her elbow. "Dad? He's not coming back, but you will stop the divorce? Please?"

"Hermione," Arthur whispered into her ear, "come with me and don't worry about that now. They will try to…"

"No, I mean it," she said pulling back. "I don't want it…not now…not after what he did for me. He's not coming back. He can't. All the gates were closed and he…you wouldn't understand, not until you hear the whole story."

"Hermione, I can't believe that. Not until we have listened to what Snape has to say and…I can't believe that." Arthur's grip on her arms intensified and he helped her up. "We have to keep hoping."

Once she was settled into Arthur's office, Hermione began writing, starting on the morning they had left her apartment, including Ivan's part, and her insistence that no one would be the wiser, making a point to say it was she that had tricked him and making the port key had not been his idea. She detailed the meeting with Sirius and the near disaster that sent Harry off with the children and Sirius back to Mara. Describing the trek across the plains and Snape's rescue, she stopped to relive the cramp in her hand, considering how she could best explain the fact that it was mark that kept them trapped. Pausing she looked up and saw the outer office empty, the windows already darkened.

She didn't mention her own illness or Ron's continued care. Each time she put the quill to paper, she skipped on to the next point, unable to put into writing what she knew now was their last time together.

"Dad?" she peeked her head out of the office. "Do you know when Constance took Snape off? Was it the same day as the battle?"

"No, if I remember it was a good week after. "

"Is she going to have to stand trial?"

"Yes, but not for what you may think. Kingsley has all the evidence he needs to clear her of any wrongdoing before and during the war. She worked closely with Snape and was responsible for passing a lot of valuable information to us. However, there is the matter of a certain Healer that is still up on the incurable ward. Speaking of which…we need to get you one, they never sent one up. I asked for the same one that took care of Harry and the kids. We can trust him."

"I forgot." She dug in her pockets and brought out the small journal with the list of names Snape had surrendered before they knew what Ron had planned. "I can't size it without my wand, but Kingsley will want to take a look at it. If the Healer's name…the one that Constance cursed… is listed it may help her."

"Do I have your promise…a real promise…that you will stay here while I take it to him?" Arthur frowned at her.

"Of course." Hermione turned back to the desk, realizing he was telling her that if she left it would be his job on the line next.

Hermione puzzled the fact that Constance had been able to use the mark after the Dark Lord was already dead and wondered how such a spell could work if the creator was not the one to instigate the call. Pacing in Arthur's office she suddenly stopped and clapped her hands loudly calling out to Millie, gratified when the sound of the small elf popping in filled the room.

"Millie," she cried, falling on her knees in front of Snape's elf. "Have you heard? He is back. Your Master has returned."

"My's Master?" Her eyes grew large and filled with tears.

"Yes, he is…"

She was suddenly kneeling alone staring at the spot Millie had only a moment ago occupied. Cursing her stupidity for not asking for what she needed before informing the elf of the current news, she stood and went back t the desk and continued writing. A short time late, her attention was called to a flurry of activity in the outer office.

"Mrs. Weasley!" Kingsley's voice rang out above the clamour. "Explain yourself! You are under investigation yet you continue to meddle?"

"Kingsley, she is upset enough…" Arthur started.

"Obviously not enough to stop!" He pushed by Arthur and headed for the inner office, causing Hermione to walk backwards from the door.

"What is the meaning of this? We are in the middle of an investigation and I now have an elf trying to run the show."

"What? I only wanted to ask a …"

"We ask the questions, you answer."

"Ronald is still in there you big oaf," she hissed. "Do you think I can just sit here knowing…"

"It is hard enough for his family as it is. Do no hold out false hope," Kingsley said quietly, jerking his head toward Arthur that stood behind him.

"Mr…Dad, listen to me…please…make them listen. How did she get there? If Voldemort was already dead how did she do it?"

"What are you thinking, Hermione?"Arthur frowned.

"I don't know. Maybe it's nothing…but I have to keep trying. How long did Snape say Ron has? I am sure you asked him."

Kingsley looked at Arthur uncomfortably before muttering, "A week, maybe a little more. He is reading over the books on dark arts we took from the Malfoy place hoping to find something there."

Hermione looked at the clock and furrowed her brow in thought. "He must be figuring Ron will just keep going deeper and deeper to a safe area. Not fighting. If he does, and you know he would, it may buy him some more time. He won't just give up…he'll fight. Snape doesn't know him…not like he is now. He would only think we were still kids."

"I would like to …"

"Damn it Kingsley…stop…just stop and listen. I have to try…we have to try…we have to at least be sure there is nothing we can do. You owe him, this whole bloody world owes him at least that much," Hermione raged. "You don't know what that place is like…we can't let him die there…not there…not alone. I have a pocket full of books. Books I can't read without my wand…I want my wand."

"What did you want from Severus's elf?" Kingsley relented, sitting wearily at Arthur's desk.

"More books, on spells, and…I want to talk to Constance and like I said…I want my wand."

"That's all?" he snorted. "You talk to no one. Not even Snape until we know what the hell went on in there."

"No, I want more." She looked up at him coldly. "I want a week. A week and you can do whatever you want to me. I don't give a fuck what you do, but I have to try!"

"Three days, and you don't talk to Snape or Mulciber…not until we are done with them. We still have unanswered questions concerning Voldemort that we _**will**_have answered without interference."

"Kingsley," Arthur said quietly, "I will be responsible for her."

"You know what will happen if she…"

"He's my son, Kingsley. I've lost one and unless you want to tell Molly you let another die without trying to help you will let me do this."

Kingsley studied Arthur's face finally nodding as he stood up. "I should have my head examined for this. One more thing, you are not to contact Ivan, he has enough to worry about."

"Will you at least tell him how sorry I am?" Hermione asked. "If I had known this could have happened I would have found a different way."

"Exactly why he said he helped," Kingsley gripped. "Since you were going anyway he wanted to make it as safe as possible."

The sound of voices in the hallway stopped Kingsley from saying more. He gave Hermione a warning look before telling the Healer that he was not to discuss the patient and instructing him that if she needed continued care she should be taken to the Ministry's Infirmary on the ninth floor.

After the Healer examined her leg, casting further healing spells and frowning at the scar that was forming. He gave her three different potions, clicking his tongue at her refusal to go to bed.

"Whatever did this is going to leave an ugly scar," he said, raising his eyebrow in question.

"I don't care about that. Just give me something for the infection."

"You don't understand, if this was caused by magic, and I see…"

"No, it wasn't," she cut him off. "Just leave the potions."

"You waited too long. I'm afraid the infection and resulting tissue lose will hamper a full healing and you will never regain normal strength. You will find it difficult to run, even to spin into an apparation. If you use this leg, you should relearn to spin into it on your other, and stay off high-heels. They put so much stress on…"

"Just the potions," she repeated, glaring at him and sitting impatiently until he closed up his bag and left.

Hermione asked Arthur to take her back to Hogwarts and spent the rest of the night locked up in the Hogwarts Library. In the morning, Arthur shoved a plate of breakfast in front of her with a cup of steaming tea and two more vials of medicine. She swallowed the potions, aware that this was the reason Ronald had chosen to stay behind, almost choking on the bitter brew. The first bite of breakfast stuck in her throat as the sudden image of Ronald as he had sat in the library flashed in front of her eyes.

"Come on girl," Arthur said. "You have to eat something. How about just eating some the toast with your tea?"

"If he has to hide under the store room he won't even have food or water," she choked. "From there the only way out is through the outside door…if…"

"If he had to move he would take supplies, he wouldn't lock himself without what he needed. Hermione, we still have time. Now, tell me what you are looking for."

"The mark. Constance said she used it to take Snape there…but Voldemort wasn't there. It had to mean more than just a way of calling his loyal. There has to be more."

"He could use it as well. At least that is my understanding. If he were injured, or thought he could escape he could have used his own mark…like a … a portkey…to go to his manor," Arthur said with a frown. "The Order always set anti-apparition spells if we got him cornered. We always hoped to trap him until more of us could get to the battle. Remember the Ministry? Bellatrix managed to get into one of the floos, but Voldemort got through the anti-apparition shield. Although when it was all over, the shield was still up. We never could figure out how he did it. Even Snape couldn't get the spell from him."

"You've been able to talk to them?"

"No, but I had access to their reports before Kingsley sealed them. They headed up here as well, but I haven't seen them. Whatever is going on is on the hush."

"It shouldn't have worked after he was dead. That's the part that's off. I can understand the Voldemort was able to…to call himself to his manor, but not that Constance could do it after he was dead."

"I am not sure, Hermione. Is it possible that the mark was keyed to his manor as well? Does it have to be on a living person?"

"I don't know, I just know that if someone wears the mark and goes in like Snape and Mulciber they have to come out the same way and with him dead…I don't know." Hermione snapped her head up. "Can you get me down to the dungeons?"

"No, not now. I will see what I can do," Arthur said softly as he caught sight of Potter waving him over to the doorway. "Hold on."

"Kingsley wants her back," Harry informed him. "He doesn't want her here and Minerva is worried the school will be brought into the whole thing."

"Tell him she is with me, Harry, and tell Minerva I have spells set…no one knows she is here. Tell him she will not be able to interfere with Snape if that's what he is worried about," Arthur whispered, then laid his hand on the younger man's shoulder. "You should talk to her."

"I can't, Dad. Kingsley wants me to stay out of it. He thinks she may try to hide something. Listen, she won't tell you the truth, not if she thinks it's going to hurt you. She won't lie, she never has, not really, but she just won't mention something that may hurt you…or me if she doesn't think it's important. You know how she is."

Arthur turned back and looked at Hermione who already had her head bent back over her books while she scribbled notes on a Muggle style legal pad. "She hasn't eaten more then two bites of toast, and won't even put milk in her tea."

"Make sure she takes her potions. She will forget those as well," Harry sighed loudly. "Snape said he closed all the gates into and out of the place. He said Ron agreed that since he couldn't make it out anyway, he wanted to make sure nothing else did either. It doesn't look good, Dad."

Arthur lowered his head and nodded. "So, even if she finds something…"

"It won't work Arthur. It won't work. It's not getting in…she may find a way to do that…but then what? We let her go back and die with him? You run off to save him, leave Molly and be killed? Fuck, it there was a hope…no matter how small…I would go…but there's not. There's no way out and if his brother's think they can rush in and do something you will lose them too."

A week passed with Hermione never leaving Hogwarts. She slept in Snape's old quarters and combed through every book she could find. Pouring over the tomes Snape had given her and the books in the dungeons, she was not able to put together any ideas of how a mark used to call someone to the Dark Lord could now be used to get Ronald out. She had just showered and was dressing when she heard movement in the outer chamber. Wrapping a robe around herself, she went out to see who it was.

"Mrs. Weasley," she said softly, seeing Molly waiting uncomfortably, noticing how much older the witch looked than she had the last time they had seen each other. "I didn't know you were coming."

"I wanted to see you, and to…to thank you. I know you have done everything you can," Molly said warmly, and then opened her arms as Hermione flew into them. "There, there dear. No one blames you. Ronald was always one to run off on an adventure. He loved you, you know."

"I know," Hermione sobbed into the older woman. "I want him back."

"We all do," Molly said softly, pushing her away and wiping her own tears away. "Arthur says you have been at this day and night."

"I…I think I may have missed something. Something important."

"I have spoken to Kingsley. He thinks you can all avoid going to trail if you plead guilt to the charges. A simple matter really. There will be a small fine to pay but nothing more and he has promised not to make an issue of it."

"Harry?"

"We will take a written reprimand in his file and not be eligible for promotion for three years. A small thing it is. He agreed to it to keep the secrecy of the veil."

"He should have fought…"

"And what? Go to trial? Risk everything he has worked so hard for? Announce to the world that there is a veil hidden at the Ministry? No, child. This way he loses nothing and his file will be purged when the three years are up."

"Snape and Mulciber?"

"She will spend five years on probation for using an unforgivable but not see the inside of Azkaban. It seems they were aware she was helping our side all this time but were afraid if it came out, she would be in danger from the Dark Side. Remember when Arthur was attacked in the Ministry? Well, it would have been much worse. It seems she _just happened_ to be in a near by chamber and dropped a bookcase to the floor. The noise was enough to stop the attack. She didn't know what was happening…with Arthur, but she knew Voldemort was down there. To think we could have lost him."

"Probation, that's good," Hermione sighed. "Ten years in that awful place is enough."

"Now you get your things and come with me," Molly said, trying to smile. "We are having a little get together at The Burrow."

"I don't think I can do that," Hermione smiled thinly. "Not yet. Not now."

"Wilhelm and Nada will be there."

"How are they? Truly?"

Molly sighed and shook her head sadly. "It will be a while before they are able to be normal again. Wilhelm hovers over Nada, not letting her out of his sight and she bursts into tears at the drop of a hat."

"Poor babies," Hermione sighed. "Harry and Ginny will have their hands full."

"No, it's Andromeda that wants them. As Sirius' only living relative she is claiming them. I must say little Teddy gets along well with them and even Nada seems comfortable with her."

"Sirius would like that he wanted them to know about the Black name. Oh, I almost forgot." Hermione hurried to her outer robes and dug through the pockets, pulling out the talisman Sirius had given her. "This is for Wilhelm. Sirius wanted him to have it. He wants them to know…that he loves them and that he and Mara…"

"I will give it to him and when you are able, you will tell him what his father said," Molly said sternly, taking the talisman and dropping it in her pocket. "It is important that they see you, that they know he's not dead, that you saw him go back. I am sure that's what they think but are afraid to ask."

"They were so scared. I can still hear Nada's screams," Hermione admitted.

"Arthur sends this." Molly pulled out Hermione's wand and handed it to her. "I wish you would come with me."

"I can't, not yet, not…no…not yet." Hermione gave her another hug and walked her to the door.

"Would you tell Harry that I'm going home tonight? I know he may not want to see me right now…he…I know he doesn't blame me…but he still…just tell him I understand and that I will be at home."

"He is having a hard time," Molly said sadly. "Ronald and Sirius…then having Andromeda take the children…he is trying to cope."

"I don't know how you are doing it. I was afraid to see you," Hermione choked back her sobs. "I was afraid you wouldn't want to talk to me."

"Ah, child." Molly gave her a warm hug. "I have my moments, I would be lying to say I do not, but you are always welcomed at The Burrow."

Hermione walked her to the gates and watched as Molly apparated away, then returned to the Dungeons and packed up what little she had in the castle. She hid the books Snape had given her on his bookshelves, using his method of deception, knowing that they would be safe until she found somewhere more secure. With a glance around, making sure she did not leave anything behind, she went back to her small apartment in London.

It felt strange to be back. Walking through the rooms, she found in hard to believe she had lived her for over eight years and could only remember the times Ronald had been home. It was not her home, not any longer. After two weeks, she still could not shake the feeling that she was a stranger in her own home and knew it was time to move on. Sighing, she began to pack, knowing that if she stayed here she would never be able to put what had happened behind her.

She had a hard time sorting out Ron's things, not that there was much that was still his, but every thing he had left behind reminded her of better times when they had been a couple. In the end, the only thing she kept of his was a small box on the top cupboard shelf. Opening it, she had found her wedding band among other mementoes, some of which had little meaning to her, but she knew they all added up to the sum of Ronald's life.

Slipping the ring back onto her finger she held up her hand, wished that there were still such a thing as time turners, and wondered if indeed any had survived the war. Tugging the ring off and putting it back, she inspected some of the other things he had found important enough to keep. There was a white queen from some old chess game she did not understand, a small round flat stone that reminded her of a story he told her about Fred's teaching him to skip stones, and a dried flower that she recognized from Ginny's wedding. Pushing the trinkets around the bottom of the box she knew if she bothered to count them, there would be one piece for each of his brother's and one for each year at Hogwarts. Sadly, she picked up a card that held Dumbledore's picture and remembered their first train trip to school and how he had explained collecting the cards to Harry.

Her resignation to the museum went unquestioned and Frank finally stopped trying to contact her when his calls and posts went unanswered. After a couple of months, she gave up her London life and moved to a small room over Flourish and Blots, advertising her skills as an interrupter and translator. In the mornings, she would walk the alley, on occasion stopping in at the Weasley shop and taking a cup of tea, feeling more welcome each time she walked in.

"I am going up to the cemetery this afternoon," George said one day in an off hand manner. "Thought you would like to go with me."

"No, I've decided I won't go there," Hermione said, sipping her tea. "He isn't there and it is not the way I want to remember him. I know it is supposed to help…but no, George, I won't ever go there."

"Bill is going back in the morning. He's been home since Rona…for three months now. Mum's doing better and he's done up at Hogwarts for some time now, so he said it's time he got back to work."

"I would have liked to see him. Last time I saw him I was nasty to him. You know…the whole it was his fault Ron left home in the first place. Tell him something for me? Tell him I'm sorry and the next time he is in town to stop by?"

"He didn't take it seriously," George chuckled. "Bloody hell girl, you still act like an only child, even after all this time with us. When you come from a clan as big as the Weasleys, you don't take any thing like that seriously. It's sort of a rule…you know…don't believe anything someone says in anger…Mum's idea."

"I thought she always said not to take what anyone said seriously because they were joking," she laughed.

"That too."

"So what kept Bill around so long? Up at Hogwarts you said?"

"That journal that Snape found…the one with the list of names, Bill and Snape were undoing the spell that turned them into Inferi. Dumbledore knew where to find the spell. The only problem was each spell had to be done separate for each name and they can't even be sure it works."

"The Inferi in Voldemort's world?"

"That's the thing, they can't be sure it will work with them so far. If it does…well, at least their souls can rest."

"George? Did they ever…you know…mention what…with your brother?"

"Don't even think that," George said with an unusual edge to his voice. "Inferi are made…by magic…not by…"

"I'm sorry," she sighed loudly. "I just keep having these dreams. You know the type, the ones where nothing makes sense and when you wake up you know are impossible…but the scare the bloody hell out of you anyway."

"Here," George said, reaching of a clear globe that sat on a nearby shelf. "If you need to talk, even in the middle of the night, just talk into this. I know those rooms over Flourish's don't have floos."

"Thanks." She smiled and tucked in her pocketbook.

"So, how is the business doing?"

"Fine, I am writing a book." She avoided his eyes as she reached for her teacup. "I still have to figure out what the bloody runes mean. Only now, I think I will be able to figure it out."

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**A/N: I had planned this ending from the beginning, leaving it with Hermione's future plans. However, as the story progressed I realized I wanted to tie the beginning back to the end, and wanted to write a new ending. So, if you do not like this one…keep reading. However, I will say now, thank you for reading…and for those that reviewed a special thanks… and the next chapter is for you. **


	16. Coming Full Circle

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

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**The Chasm**

**Chapter 14**

**Coming Full Circle**

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Hermione settled onto the sofa, a child on each side, smiling up at Harry as she opened the picture book and began to translate as she read.

"_Once upon a time, long ago, there was a village where everyone was happy. There were no wars, no angry words and no one wanted more than they had. This little village had always been and always would be. It was a little village, each family had their own house, and all the houses surrounded a square that they played games in and worshiped the gods that had given them this blessed place. _

_The village had protection on three sides by great mountains that kept it hidden and safe from other men. On the forth side, the villagers could see for miles over icy waters that sheltered them from the evils of the outside world and offered them fish and all manner of food. _

_They were happy living there, this people that had always been, until one day a great war broke out across the world, and the evilness came to them from over the mountains and from across the sea. Men in ships came and burnt their village, killing those that hid in their homes and the old men that tried to make peace. Since they were forbidden to use magic against another man, even as their world ended around them, they hung on to their beliefs and remained true to their gods, forgiving the men even as they died and their homes burned._

_Their magic was the old magic that had been given to them to use only for good. When the war of men came to them, only the mother of the village lost her temper and used her magic to destroy the men of war. She caused their ships to sink in the harbour, and great fires to rain down from the heavens. Because of this, she and her people were not allowed to pass on with the gods as they had been promised since the beginning of time, but held in limbo, waiting. The mother was punished, and forced to live alone, until she could learn again the old ways and to forgive the sons of man."_

"Umm, Hermione? Don't you think you could find something else they may…" Harry started, looking at the kids uncomfortably.

"No," Nada said, reaching out and slapping her hand on the book that Hermione held. "I want this one. See the picture?"

"We could find a happier story," Hermione suggested. "She thinks it looks like their old home."

"Nada wants this one. It was her turn to chose," Wilhelm said, looking up at Hermione frowning.

"_One day, many years later," _Hermione began again, laughing at Harry's disapproving look_, "she found one of the men she had railed against, a man from across the sea. He had been sent to her as a test. She took care of him, feed him and carved his named into a great stone table, adding his name to that of her people. She learned patience again, and with it how to love. She again used magic only for good and once more had children that ran and played and learned the old ways. _

_The man she had saved became her husband, and together they lived three hundred years. One day, until unable to watch him die, she prayed to the gods and was allowed to join him. When she died, she took this husband to her people that still waited for her, and once again, she lived in her village as it had been. _

_You must remember, this above all else, It is only through keeping to the ways of the old people, to forgive those that raise their hand against us that we can be assured ever lasting life." _

"Now, off to bed. We can read another one the next time you come." Hermione looked up and saw Harry watching her closely, a look of confusion evident on his face.

"Where did you find that book?" he asked.

"Durmstrang. One of their children's books that I thought was foolishness. Harry? There are forty-eight stories in this book. They are all like this. Some pretty little parables, some dark stories warning about greed and power. This has to be the key to the runes. Each rune was a world, and each world had its own…I don't know what to call it…like a personality…a focus."

"Come on kids, bed time," he said over their protests. "Aunt Ginny can read you another story tomorrow night. I am sure Auntie Hermione will let you keep the book for a few days."

After he tucked Wilhelm and Nada in bed, Harry picked up the book and flopped down next to Hermione. "What are you thinking? I know that look."

"I think I was a damned fool not to read this book instead of the scholarly attempts to explain runes."

"It's like Divination. It only makes sense if you know the real story already."

"Maybe, but it would have convinced me there was nothing to it and I would have stayed home. I mean, sure…the part about dying and going home is foolish…but he said Mara couldn't die…that part sounds true."

"I doubt you would have stayed home, and you never would have found Snape and Mulciber."

"The Snapes," she said, trying to grin. "Kingsley said the git is marrying her. At least one good thing came out of all this."

"Now, that's a surprise. I wouldn't think anyone would ever marry him."

"My mother used to say the same thing about me," she laughed, wrapping her arm around his. "Read me a story?"

"Sure." He opened up the book and started flipping through it. "Which one?"

"One about the new runes. I haven't had time to read them all yet. There is one in there about the importance of family and how children can keep a whole family together but your Russian may not be up to it."

He looked at her smugly and smirked. "I may surprise you. Are they all parables? I mean…like Muggle fairy tales? Teaching kids to be good?"

"No, not at all, some cover how to act in war, or rather how not to fight in one but to settle differences before things get that far. I rather liked that one. Okay, pick a different one, something darker."

"Oh, here, it says it is a story of self sacrifice and redemption."

"Umm…sounds like where Snape was." She yawned and laid her head on his shoulder listening to his voice drone on, only catching every few words as he read slowly, fighting with the translation.

"Hermione…sit up…did you hear that? I know I got it right."

"Yeah, sure…what?"

"Listen…so this happy couple have this big fight, his wife, or whatever, gets mad at him, and in a fit of rage because he looked at someone else, she throws him into exile where he decides to stay because if he leaves she will die…some sort of magic thingy. Okay, so I may not have gotten that part right, but it goes on to say that years later she gets thinking about it….and listen …just listen…

'_One day she was so filled with remorse that she found another marked as he had been marked, and he went down on his knees in the labyrinth and using their combined magic to touch her husband's mind they called him home. '_

Fuck!" He looked at her, raking his hand through his hair. "There's more… it goes on that he comes home and yada yada… here listen… '_It was only through his love and protection that no harm could follow him out of his exile and into the world of mortals'. _Now what the fuck to you think that means?"

"Let me see that."She grabbed the book and started flipping the pages. "There is one here about how you shouldn't take little things and blow them up to the size of a mountain. Harry? That place you and Ron almost killed each other."

"It's been six months," Harry pointed out.

"So what? It's been fucking centuries since these stories were told. I have to get out of here. I need to see Snape. Now."

"Hermione…they are children's…"

"Yeah, remember Occam's razor? This is crazy. It's crazy and it makes as much sense as all that bull shite we kept coming up with."

"Snape's gone," he sighed. "He and Constance are in hiding, not real hiding but he said he didn't want any publicity and…"

"Forget it." She jumped up and began pacing. "It says '_another marked as he had been marked_", Snape isn't marked anymore." She stopped and turned to Harry. "Who didn't go to Azkaban that has the mark?"

"Only Malfoy. Everyone else is still in there."

"Draco," she whispered. "I need to see him."

"Hermione, it's been too long and I am not letting you do this."

"Then damn you Harry Potter, damn you to hell! If all I get back is his body…if that is all that is left…at least he will be buried properly! Not letting me! Since when do I take orders from you?" She grabbed her outer robes and hurried to the door, leaving only to stumble into an awkward apparation once she reached the gate.

After pounding on the front door of Malfoy Manor and having the door opened a crack as a small nervous elf peaked out, she had demanded to see Draco. Fuming as the door shut in her face she again pounded until Draco himself opened it and stepped to the side, indicting that she should enter. Once inside she felt her breathing quicken at the familiar sight of the main hall, remembering the last time she had been inside this place.

"I have something I have to ask you," she spat.

"Too late, Granger, or is it Weasley, I've lost track…I already received a floo from Potter." Draco folded his arms over his chest and sneered down at her.

"Forget him," she said, looking around nervously. "Are you alone?"

"No, the Dark Lord is in the next room and Bellatrix is waiting for you," he said sarcastically.

"Shut up, Malfoy. The last time I was here it was rather…harrowing."

"So I take it this is your pay back?" He smirked at her and tried not to grin.

"Listen," she said, rolling her eyes, "I know we don't like each other, but I need your help."

"No."

"I can pay you."

"Look around. Does it look like I need your money?"

"Fifteen minutes. Give me fifteen minutes before you side with Potter. Anyway, since when have you ever sided with him? You should help me just to spite him."

"I heard about your little excursion, Granger. If this has to do with the weasel…"

"Harry was told not to tell anyone," she said angrily.

"He didn't say a word. I talked to my godfather."

"Who?" she asked, confused when he turned and strode into the formal sitting room.

"Snape is my godfather. Didn't know that? I am surprised. I thought you were supposed to know everything. You see he was once friends with my parents, real friends, before all this started, or at least before my dear father was in too deep to get out like Snape did."

"I heard it was your family that convinced him to…"

"No one had to convince him, he did that all by himself," Draco said tiredly and flopped in a chair. "What do you want, Granger? It's been over for years."

"You've spoken to him since he came back?"

"Yes."

"Did he tell you where he has been? What happened to Ron?"

"Some of it, not the details. I know he stayed behind. I asked him about it a couple of times, he kept changing the topic," Draco admitted.

Hermione launched into a short synopsis of their last hours in the other world, and then summarized the book she had been reading to the Wilhelm and Nada, pointing out the similarities to it and what really happened. When she reached the part about 'another marked as he had been', Draco stood up and started pacing. "Okay, stop right there. It also says labyrinth, know any of those that just happen to be around here? Not a hedge…a real one?"

"The original meaning wasn't a maze it meant a hidden place, a safe place, a place that there was only one way into and out of. Usually a place underground."

"Right," Draco snorted. "You've seen the dungeons. Care to have another look for old time's sake?"

"If you won't help me with this I will find a way to take the mark myself," she hissed.

"You can't," he spat back. "You need someone to put it on you…to…" he started then looked at her quizzically.

"Go on. Tell me who put the mark of Voldemort."

"I don't know," he said meekly, turning on her with a glare. "Neither do you, so don't play all high and mighty with me!"

"Malfoy…listen. I am not asking you to go anywhere or to risk anything. I just need you to…"

"He doesn't need to get involved in something that he shouldn't be caught up in." Harry said angrily, striding into the room. "Bloody hell, Malfoy, you have to do something about those peacocks. The cock has it in for me, I know he does."

"You are the only one he goes after." Draco chuckled. "You must smell like an Auror, well trained aren't they?"

"Shite," Hermione said, slumping into a chair. "Harry, what are you doing here?"

"I come once a month to talk."

"Part of my probation," Draco quipped as he crossed to the liquor cabinet. "Usual?"

"Yeah," Harry said, sitting on the sofa and grinning at the look on Hermione's face. "Bring her a white wine, looks like she could use a drink."

"Only my probation was up a few months ago and he keeps coming. I've been meaning to ask you about that, Potter."

"Habit," Harry laughed. "Plus that you have the best scotch money can buy."

"I'll have to stop keeping it in stock. Try Midleton, not as…fruity…but even you can afford it. Unless you wife gives you an allowance," Draco muttered. "Now what is this all about…truly?"

"I told you," Hermione said. "It says you can call back Ron…the book, it says he's coming home."

"What? A kid's storybook? My son had a book that had talking trains and brooms that danced. Maybe I should…"

"Cut it out," Hermione spat.

"Okay, let's say I can call him back. Where is the labyrinth?"

"That's what we have to figure out. You knew Voldemort better than any of us did. Did he ever say anything about a place around here he could hide in?"

"I hate to disappoint you, Granger, but I was not on his list of confidants. I was on the short list of those due to be tortured for stepping out of line."

"Okay, let's make a list." She looked around the room and saw Narcissa's writing table. Finding parchment and quill she turned back to see both Harry and Draco staring at her in disbelief. "Fine, I am nutters. Just play along until they lock me up."

"Deal," Draco smirked, holding up a bottle and seeing Harry's nod his consent to a second drink.

"Okay, first…it has to be underground. Second, it has to be close…close enough for his followers to apparate into. Three, it has to…"

"Forget two." Harry sipped his drink. "Death Eaters could apparate farther than the rest of the Order, and we had some powerful wizards. Even if we tracked them we had trouble following."

"Fine." Hermione chewed the end of the quill. "Three, or rather…two, it was used to transport things from here to his manor."

"Or the other way around," Draco chuckled. "Sorry, just thought I would toss that in."

"Three, it is older than we are. It would have been built at the same time as the place Snape was at. He used it to…" She stopped and turned to Harry. "Didn't he make the Inferi in Albania? Isn't that what Dumbledore always thought? His hide-a-way was crawling with Inferi and those…those dead things."

"Yeah, I guess…he said Voldemort had an army of them."

"Why keep them on the other side? Why not here?"

"He did. Remember the cave…" Harry snapped his eyes up to Hermione's face. "Bloody hell!"

Hermione was on her feet. "We need to get there. Now. Fuck, he kept his army on the other side and sent them through when he needed them! That cave wasn't there just to hide a fucking locket, it was there to transfer his army in and out as he needed it. That's how he hid them between the wars. Where else could he have hidden a shite load of dead things? We had it backwards…the locket was there because of the Inferi, he didn't bring them just to protect it…they were already there!"

"Mione," Harry said in a warning voice. "You know the rules. No more running off…"

"I am not running off. I am going to a historical place concerning a book I am researching and the cave is most decisively a historical place," she said evenly. "Malfoy, do you know when it is low tide?"

"What the fuck do I look like?" Draco said in mock horror. "Some ruddy fisherman?"

"No, you look like someone who visits his father in Azkaban." Hermione put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "You go during high tide, we add twelve hours and we should be fine."

Draco turned back to the liquor cabinet as Harry started to list all the reasons they shouldn't go and then pointed out the futility of Hermione's quest. Listening to the Auror's arguments and Hermione's retorts, he chuckled and shook his head. "You two will never grow up. Face it, Potter, you will do anything she asks you to do. From day one I could never figure out which one of you had the worse ideas."

"Fine," Harry huffed, raking his hand through his hair. "Don't think you are getting out of this, Malfoy. Keep her here until I get back. Ginny still isn't talking to me for running off last time and now I have to tell her I'm doing it again."

"Harry?" Hermione said softly. "Don't tell her. Once we find out if it works…if we can truly bury him…wait until then. It's been hard on her."

"She's right," Draco said. "It's not dangerous if the Inferi are dead…really dead… and all we are doing is wasting a couple of hours anyway. What we don't need is a Weasley tagging along if his body is in the condition I think it will be in."

.

.

Harry took Hermione in a side-along to the small island just off the coast of Northern Scotland that sat within sight of the cave. He left her there and returned for Draco, depositing them both and waiting with them for the water to recede from the mouth of the cave. Once the tide was at the low point, he pulled three brooms from his pocket, enlarged them and handed one to each. Flying to the cave he had second thoughts when he saw how hopeful Hermione looked but knew it was too late to stop her form pinning her hopes on something impossible.

"Even Dumbledore was confused the first time I came here. There was a blood oath sealing it," Harry declared as they set down on their brooms. "Listen…if there are still Inferi in here we leave until we have more help."

Hermione nodded, searching he earthen walls for an opening, almost calling out when Draco pushed up his sleeve and with a small pocketknife nicked himself, letting his blood drip to the ground. A shuddering rumble began as rocks and earth slid aside, revealing an opening to the cave beyond.

"Oh my gods," Hermione gasped, slapping her hand over her nose. "What is that stench?"

Draco lifted his wand and began cleaning the air, his lip curled up in disgust. "Rotting flesh."

"The Inferi," Harry said, trying to breathe through is mouth, helping Draco clean the scent. "At least we know they are dead."

"Okay, Granger, if this is the labyrinth what now?"

"Since you never asked for the summoning spell I take it you know it." She looked into the darkness of the cave, hesitant to enter as she watched the emotions that flickered across Harry's face. She pulled her wand and helped rid the air of the smell of spoiled meat as she fought not to vomit.

As they entered the cave, Hermione had to turn her back on the sigh of bloated bodies in various states of decay, floating on a sea of filth. Vomiting onto the ground, she heard Harry doing the same. Draco silently cast a spell, setting the lake on fire, burning off the top layer and adding sweet smelling smoke to the air.

"That's as good as it's going to get," Draco said, fighting his own gag reflex. "Let's get this over with."

He fell to one knee, pushed up his left sleeve and touched his forearm with his wand. Hermione saw him swallow hard, his hand fisted on his wand so hard that his knuckles turned white. Laying a hand on his shoulder, she tried to reassure him only to have him shrug her hand off and begin an incantation she could barely hear. Leaning closer, trying to discern what he said, she saw Harry light the tip of his wand and point it into the dark recesses of the cave, lighting what appeared to be a sea of rotting flesh.

"Nothing," Draco gasped, sweat beading on his brow despite the coldness of the dank cave, the snake burning as it moved on his arm. "The fuckers dead and he still manages to control the bloody mark."

"Try again," Hermione implored, close to begging. "Remember, he is dead. He can't hurt you…not anymore."

Draco nodded and raised his wand to his arm and paused as he touched it to the stone floor instead, muttering the same incantation only this time feeling a swirl of magic as Hermione again touched his shoulder. He raised his voice, commanding Ronald to return, demanding that he follow his call to the labyrinth, to appear in front of him.

"There! I think I see something!" Harry shouted, increasing the luminous glow at the tip of his wand. "Hermione, help me!"

She raced to him, adding the light from her wand to his and saw the same pile of rags as he did across the pool of water, crumbled in a heap next to the fountain that had once hidden the locket.

"Accio broom," she called, waiting for the familiar feel of the broom handle to slap her palm, and hearing Harry and Draco's own commands, she mounted her broom and sped over the water and rotting corpses to the far side of the cave.

"Hermione, wait," Harry shouted as his feet touched down and he grabbed her arm, yanking her back. "Don't, you don't want to remember him like this. Let me take him home."

"Potter," Draco called from his position next to Ronald. "He's alive."

Hermione let out a sob and pulled away from Harry, throwing herself on the ground next to Draco and helping him roll Ronald to his back. She put her hands over her mouth as she looked up at Harry, her eyes full of tears. Ronald lay still, barely breathing, labouring as he sucked in each lungful of air. He was unwashed, unshaven, and thinner than they had ever seen him and showed no sign that he knew where he was.

Draco pushed Ronald's hair out of his face, not able to hide his disgust. "Bloody hell, are you sure it's him?"

"We have to get him out of here," Hermione cried, laying her head on Ronald's chest and clutching the tattered remains of his shirt in her fists. "My gods…how could I have believed he died. It's my fault…all of it."

"Mione," Harry said gently, pulling her back. "We both did. Now let me take him."

"I don't think you should do that," Draco said. "If he isn't dead now that would…sorry, Granger, but it would kill him, and I'm not sure apparation is any better. He can hardly breathe now, he gets squeezed and you can forget it."

"Fuck," Harry spat, raking his hand through his hair. "We should have thought to bring a portkey."

"What for? To transport a corpse? You said he was dead." Draco ripped off a shred of Ronald's shirt, then stood and took it as far from the others as he could where he started casting spells. Once satisfied he turned back to Harry and Hermione.

"It won't take all of us…but it's keyed to St. Mungo's," he muttered. "I expect you to get me out of this."

"I don't think anyone will care about an illegal portkey," Harry said flatly, nodding to Draco, knowing that since he carried the mark it was still a possibility.

"Harry," Hermione sobbed, still on her knees, gently stroking Ronald's forehead. "You take him. If Draco or I show up with him, it will take longer. They will just start asking questions. You're an Auror…they won't question you."

"She's right," Draco agreed, crinkling his nose as he walked closer to Ronald. "Get him out of here before we have another corpse."

"Get her home," Harry said as he knelt, gently lifting Hermione away, taking the scrape of cloth and holding it to Ronald's chest as the portkey activated and took them away.

"Did you see him?" Hermione sobbed. "He must have…I can't imagine what he went through. Did you see him?"

"Yeah, looked like shite." Draco shrunk her broom and put it in his pocket then mounted his own, holding his hand out to her. "Come on, I don't think you should fly your own."

Taking her to the small rocky island outside or the cave, he pulled her into his side and apparated to a small near seaside town to get his bearings and give them a place to clean off the smell that still lingered on their clothing. Once done, he spun them out again to a deserted alleyway in London.

"St. Mungo's is around the corner," he explained, flicking imaginary dust from his trousers. "The last time I used the main entry I thought the receptionist was going hex me. They still don't allow Malfoys around here. I have my own healer that comes to the manor."

"We are quite the sight." She brushed off the dirt from the cave and pulled off her outer robes, seeing him step back into the shadows. "Aren't you coming?"

"No, when I said they don't like Malfoys I meant it. Anyway, it was part of my probation not to be with more than six other people at a time. Until I have my discharge papers on me I can't go in there," he laughed. "Tell Potter this makes us even."

Hermione watched him apparate away before running to the hospital to be with Ronald. By the time she was allowed up to his floor, an entire squadron of Aurors where in the corridor, keeping people away from his room. Only with Harry's interference was she allowed to pass and make it into the waiting room where she began to pace.

After what seemed like an hour, but in truth was only minutes, the door opened and George rushed in, out of breath and sputtering. "He made it? He's back? I just heard…Mum is on her way and Dad went to pick up Ginny. Is it true?"

"George." Hermione flung her arms around his neck. "He's still in with the healers. I don't know what is happening. I saw Kingsley, he must have Harry with him."

"It's true?" He pulled her away just long enough to see her nod before he hugged her tightly. "My gods. He's back."

"Where is Harry?" Ginny said as she entered the room. "Is he hurt? Where is he?"

"He's fine," Hermione sobbed, pulling out of George's embrace as more of the Weasley family filled the room. "I don't know how Ron is…they won't say anything. They let me this far…but…no one will talk to me."

"You're sure? You're sure Harry is okay?" Ginny twisted her hands together, her voice shaking, on the verge of breaking into tears. "If you put him in danger…"

"Ginny!" Arthur said louder than he wanted to, hearing the sudden silence that descended over the room. "If she said Harry is fine I am sure he is. Now everyone, calm down until we get this sorted out."

"Fine? He's fine?" Ginny yelled. "She makes Harry run off again on one of her little adventures without a word to anyone and that's it?"

"Ginny, I am sorry. There wasn't anything dangerous. We just…"

"I need to see him," Ginny spat and headed out of the room. "I'm not taking her word for anything."

Hermione turned her back on the rest of the Weasleys and stood looking out of the window, knowing that the scene she saw did not exist but was only to give the room the appearance of normalcy. She felt her stomach clench and her chest refuse to expand as she fought for breath, not wanting to break down in front of everyone. On the verge of collapse, she felt two arms wrap around her waist and a head lean on hers. Leaning back into the embrace she felt like she was wrapped in Ronald's arms and began to sob.

"Charlie." Her voice hitched, not needing to look up to know who it was. "I'm glad you are here."

"It's okay, don't let her bother you. She gets like that sometimes when she is worried. She just heard that Harry…she is worried."

"Have you seen him?"

"No, Dad's going to try to talk to the healer."

"He's bad, Charlie, truly bad. If I didn't know it was him I wouldn't have recognised him. He looks like a walking skeleton…he's…"

"He'll be fine. He made it this far."

"Hermione…quick." Arthur stood in the doorway, a Healer standing next to him. "He's awake…he is asking for you."

"My god," she whispered and hurried to Arthur.

"They are going to put him under, he needs surgery. He said not until he saw you."

"He can talk? That's a good sign right, Dad? That means he'll be okay? He is okay now?" she pleaded, her eyes filling with tears as she watched Arthur' face, not seeing any encouragement.

Arthur opened Ronald's door as two Aurors stepped back letting them through, and nodded for her to go in first. She all but flew to the bed, grabbing Ronald's hand and laying her head on his chest.

"Ron, oh my god, can you ever…"

"Shhh…" he tried to smile, his mouth silently opening, trying to talk. Hermione lifted her head, studying his face as her eyes clouded with tears. Leaning over him he gently kissed his forehead.

"I thought I lost you."

Again, he tried to talk only to close his eyes and sigh deeply. Leaning down, putting her ear to his mouth, she heard the one word he managed to say before he fell back asleep.

"Wife."

.

.

**September 2045**

The royalties from the sale of Hermione's children's book, _Parables and Lessons of Love_, was enough to support her continued research and academic work on ancient runes. The income gave her and Ronald enough security not to worry about finances as their vault at Gringotts continued to grow and the book went into its ninth printing. They had devoted years to studying the history of magic, unearthing ancient settlements and rewriting chapters of commonly held believes. Ronald's time spent as a curse breaker was invaluable and Hermione's penchant for organization and her file system, learned from Snape's library, made it impossible for anyone to steal information or to find her secret books. She made more discoveries in a few short years than most researchers had found in a lifetime. They were both much sought after as speakers and guest lectures, at not only Hogwarts, but also the schools on the continent and foreign Ministries, further adding to their influence and prestige in the Wizarding world.

They raised their children, until they were of age for Hogwarts, between archaeological digs and old cities with ancient libraries. Wherever evidence of old magical inhabitants was found, they went. Hugo was born in the Sudan, his sister on the dusty plains along the famous Silk Road and they both considered a tattered and well-used tent as home. Although they kept a small house in Godric's Hallow, they were seldom at home, preferring to travel from place to place, gathering information from the oldest wizards they could find. Hermione had been thrilled to meet the Mullah Ron had first told her about and planned her next book to be on the customs and almost lost magic of his people.

"It's time." Ronald squatted at the rim of a deep trench that had been dug in the hard soil of the oldest magical settlement they had yet found.

"I almost have it uncovered," Hermione said, squinting up at him and signalling the workers to haul up another basket of soil. "Tell Wilhelm to come here. He needs to see this."

"What do you think it is? It doesn't look like any of the runes, and the age is off."

"It's a table," she grinned up at him. "Like the others we found. It's covered with scratches. I think they are names. I thought he might like to see it. He should remember the inside of his mother's home."

"It's the fourth one," Ronald mused. "This must have been a large village here. We will have to rethink our ideas of this place…its more than a farm community."

"It may just have been here for a long time." Her brow wrinkled as the gazed back at the slab of blue stone. "There are a lot of names on here. If each slab only has the family that lived in the house, like we thought, this place must have been used for centuries."

"Anyway, leave it for now. We told the kids we would meet them for tea."

"Just a few more minutes. You know it would go faster if you came down here and helped."

Ronald nodded and carefully lowered himself down to Hermione, careful not to dislodge any dirt around the edge of the pit. He readjusted his wand to be closer to his right hand, avoiding eye contact with his wife as he did. The thought of being in a closed damp space still bothered him, and if that closed space was under ground, he had a hard time not giving into his memories.

"Ron? What is that? Under your right hand? Brush at the edge where you moved the dirt with your foot when you climbed down."

"Mione?" He looked at her in shock, moving back to let her look at the corner of the slab as he pulled his wand and lit the tip, affording her more light.

There, scratched clearly in fine script was a single word in modern English, not the yet to be deciphered language of the ancients they were studying. The name 'Padfoot' stood out in stark relief to the rest.

"Remember the story? The one that said…'_When she died, she took this husband to her people that still waited for her, and once again, she lived in her village as it had been'." _

"Mione," Ronald said running his finger over the name. "Let Harry see it, and the Blacks. After that I think we should bury it again."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest only to close it again, seeing the emotions that played over Ron's face. Biting her lower lip, she nodded.

"Not Harry. If he thinks there is someway to get back in there…if he thinks one of the unseen worlds takes him back in time…he may try to get to Sirius again."

"What about you? Now that you know it does, I don't want you trying it either."

She rose up on her knees and kissed his cheek. "I think I learned my lesson on that one. Ginny would even be proud of me and you mum may stop harping about how stubborn I am."

"I'll get Nada and Wilhelm down here."

Hermione watched him pull himself up to the surface and tell the workers they were abandoning the site before pulling out a small camera and snapping as many pictures as she could. Sitting back on her heels, she ran her hand over the stone slab, smiling to feel it warmer than it should be at this depth, understanding why these stones had once been considered sacred. Frowning, she used a small hammer to chip of a piece and shoved it in her pocket, furtively looking up at the surface.

This type of stone was not indigenous to The Isle of Mann. The closest place they had been found was on the coast of Wales. Although it had long been thought, by both Muggles and Wizards, that the stones had been moved, she wondered how. How would a magical community have moved such a slab at a time prior to wands…and why? A sudden idea struck her, an idea that she knew Ronald would object to.

Smiling up at the rim of the dig, she held her hand up to help Nada down, chiding her to be careful and not hurt the child that was not due for another month. Seeing Wilhelm, she moved to make enough room for the man he had become, seeing Sirius' grin cover his face.

"Aunt Hermione?" Nada said, looking at her strangely. "You have that look again."

"I don't know what you are talking about," Hermione scooted back enough so they could see the slab and pointed to the name she had found, avoiding Nada's eyes.

"Padfoot?" Wilhelm touched the name almost reverently. "Dad?"

"Yes," Hermione whispered. "I told you he went back to your mum."

Nada threw her arms around Wilhelm's neck. "I can't remember him, not his face. I only remember bits and pieces."

"His face? All you have to do is look at your brother," Hermione said quietly. "And you Nada, you look so much like Mara…"

"Do you think he is still there? That this is somehow…"

"No, now stop," Hermione said quickly, afraid of what would come next. "Maybe we can find more information up at Durmstrang, you know…something before the…"

"Don't even think of it," Ron called down to her.

"I'm not planning anything."

"Yet," Wilhelm muttered.

"I am not," she said emphatically. "I just thought we should read up on the stones and maybe head over to Wales…you know…just to see if this and the blue stones of the Muggles were cut at the same time. Maybe they knew about each other."

"Wife?" Ron called down, using the one word that always brought her up short, and told her that he knew what she was doing, while warning against it.

"Fine," she muttered. "Didn't you say the kids expected us for dinner?"

"Hermione?"

"Why don't we go on and leave Nada and Wilhelm alone for a while," she spoke to Ronald as she hugged each of the Black children in turn. Reaching for Ronald's hand, she had him pull her up.

Slipping her hand under his elbow they walked back to the tent to get ready to travel to Hogsmeade, Ronald talking of the children and Hermione thinking of the best way to convince Kingsley to let her just _**look**_ at the rune. She wasn't listening to Ronald, only concentrating on her next project, making mental lists of all the supplies she would need.

"I said stop." Ronald yanked her arm, turned her to face him then cupped her face in his hands as he studied her face only to sigh deeply. "This time I at least know wandless and you make damned sure to put enough medical supplies in your bloody pockets."

"We can afford all the dragon hide we need this time," she said, smiling widely.

"Wilhelm will want to go."

"That's up to him." She nodded.

"And Nada?"

"Nada," she paused, unsure of the young woman who had been married ten years and was only now having her first child. "Of course it is up to her and Louis, but I think she will stay here. She doesn't remember them as well as Wilhelm."

"We won't find him," Ronald said firmly. "This is just an academic trip. A short one. In and out."

"Of course, I quite agree."

She took up his arm as they began to walk. "Ron? Could you get the potion from Snape? The one you used to transfer the mark? You know…just in case you want to share one of yours?"

* * *

**A/N: No, I am not setting up for a sequel. Hope you enjoyed**.

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